#the pack was a hot mess but the world is pretty

[s4moongiuk]

making the most out of living in such a beautiful place

[baby-yongbok]

Come Back Soon

Bang Chan × afab!reader

✮ Genre: Smut, Sex Worker!Bang Chan ✮ Word count: 5k ✮ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors DNI), sex work (Like a sexy host club kinda?), oral (m rec.), nipple play, unprotected sex, Reader is called pretty (a lot..) ✮ Summary: Who's the cute guy with the white jacket and the thick accent? ✮ A/N: Bang Chan + Bed Chem by Sabrina Carpenter as requested by this anon! Enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

✮ Masterlist✮

In your defense, it’s not a brothel. It just kind of operates like one.

You heard about Railway from a friend of a friend. It’s a hole in the wall club that she swears is a gem. You looked it up and found close to nothing. There was only a small reddit community of people in your area asking questions about this mystery place. Here’s what you gathered:

It’s a club where women can meet men and pay for attention. Whether or not that attention includes your clothes being ripped off in a private room or a tongue down your throat is up to you. 

You decided to visit one Thursday when your Tinder match was being flaky and you were sick of waiting for replies from men who were either a catfish or can’t find the clit. 

The place was hard to find. You walked passed it twice before you realized that you needed to go down the sketchy staircase next to the hotpot restaurant. 

You expected a place packed and run down with women all over the men working there. You expected a mess and you were met with the opposite. The space was clean, pretty and not nearly wild enough to be considered a club. There are red curved couches and lounge nooks all around. A fully stocked bar and music playing loudly but not so loud that you need to yell. This is not at all what you imagined. 

You learned that night that the only guys in the club were the ones working there. They come up to you, charm you, and only stay if you want them to. If you decline they’re onto the next. 

You spent some time there, got some attention but it wasn’t until your eyes met his that you really felt like you were getting the attention you desired. He was in a suit, no shirt underneath the jacket and looking damn good while doing it. He walked into the room like he was six foot two even though he’s just about average height, it doesn’t matter to you though - he’s hot. 

Once he saw you he went straight for you, walking over like he had all of the time in the world. You sat pretty on the couch, sitting up a bit straighter and sipping your drink like you didn’t even notice him. He thought that was cute. 

“Excuse me.” Oh? Is that an accent you hear? You hum, looking up at him like he didn’t have your attention from the moment he walked in. “Is this seat taken? Or can I join you?”

That’s how you ended up meeting Chris. 

The two of you sat and spoke for at least thirty minutes before his cautious touches turned into much more and a make-out session in one of the lounge nooks. 

He pulled you into his lap, hands on your hips and pretty sounds clashing with yours. You considered taking it further for a second, just a second before your phone rang and your friend effectively cockblocked you. Chris thought it was funny. He smiled while you pouted about having to leave but he didn’t let you go without another kiss - deep and lingering. His tongue on yours and those pretty hands on your hips.

“Come back soon, yeah?” He smiled up at you, his eyes turning into gleaming crescents and you were hooked. Unfortunately, the soon that you promised him wasn’t as soon as you wanted. 

Work has been hectic, your friends have been messy and you’ve just been busy. Every plan that you had to return got canceled until tonight, Christmas Eve. You threw on a red sheer dress and put your phone on Do Not Disturb. When you get to the club this time there’s a guy at the door, a cute blonde with a deep voice and pretty accent. He gives you a card with some instructions for the night. You look it over and turn to him.

“Wait, how does this work?” He smiles - fuck, he’s hot - and points out the QR code on the card. 

“You can scan this to get the clubs app. Then you go to the event tab, press the holiday party chat and it will match you with a random guy from the club. You chat anonymously and if you like him you can take it further. If you don’t like him you can unmatch the chat and try again.” You nod, half entranced by his voice and half listening. 

You nod at him, smiling sweetly but his smile has got you beat. Is he on the app? Gosh. 

You head over to the bar and order a drink then scan the code. You open the app and it’s surprisingly smooth. You follow the instructions that the hot blonde gave you and go to the holiday party chat. A button pops up with big pretty letters reading “Spin”, so you do. Two seconds pass and the bartender is sliding you your drink while you get connected to a chat. This is interesting. 

So, the guys are nice. Really nice, but there’s no spark. You’re on your second drink and you just unmatched your second chat. You look around the club, the men are dressed in sexy, festive all white outfits with their main charming point on display to lure attention. 

 You scan the room looking for that familiar face you made out with a month ago but there’s no sign of him. You sigh, deciding to try your luck and press the pretty button on your phone again. You get connected to someone new and they start off the conversation just as the others did, sweet.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here alone on Christmas eve?”

You sip your drink, typing a reply and waiting less than a second to get one back. 

- You think I’m pretty? You don’t even know who I am yet. - “Let’s play a game then, yeah? I’ll guess.”

Oh? This is getting interesting.

- And if you guess the wrong pretty girl? - “Then unmatch me.”  - “If I don’t recognize you then I don’t deserve your time.”

Wait… did he say recognize? Like he knows you? Knows what you look like? You look around again, searching for Chris. You’d recognize him in a heartbeat but he’s nowhere to be found. You turn your attention back to the app to see that your match has texted again. 

- “Deal?”

You hesitate but agree. You wait with bated breath as you watch the little chat bubble pop up.

- “By the bar? Sinful little red dress.”

You stare at his answer then look around again. What the hell?

- “You didn’t unmatch. I knew I had the right pretty lady.” - Lucky guess, I’m not the only pretty girl in a red dress. 

You scoff, getting ready to unmatch when he texts back.

- “But you’re the only one here tonight that I was hoping to see again.” - “The only one here that I’ve had my eye on for far longer than I should.” - “The only one I was hoping to match with so I can kiss those pretty lips again.”

Oh fuck, it’s him. Thank the heavens.

- Oh? Is this the guy with the cute accent? - “Pretending that you don’t remember my name? I’m hurt.”

You smile, finishing your drink and texting back. Suddenly you’re having a good time. A very good one. 

- Remind me of it. - “Oh, I plan to”

The chat is ended before you can text back and your heart drops. What happened? Did you actually hurt his feelings? What does he mean he plans to? The bartender interrupts your flurry of wonder before you can go any deeper. He slides you a shot and you furrow your brows. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t order this.” The bartender smiles at you and nods to the other side of the bar. “It’s from him. On his tab.”

You turn around and your heart drops to the center of the earth. Chris is there. White fur jacket, white pants and no shirt. He’s leaning against the bar with a grin that you’d like to kiss off of his stupidly handsome face. How could you forget to look behind you? 

You lock your phone and turn your bar stool to face him. He’s sipping on something while his eyes roam down from yours and over the curve of your neck then the swell of your chest. He’s practically eye fucking you and you have no idea what to do about it. So you take the shot. 

The burn of the alcohol along with the desire bubbling in your core is enough to steel you for the moment that Chris pushes back off of the bar and makes his way over to you. You get a full view of him as he walks over and part of you starts foaming at the mouth while the other part of you has to hold down the fort and act normal about this. 

“Excuse me.” His thick accent rings through your ears and you grin. “Is this seat taken? Or can I join you?” 

“Is that your pick up line or something?” The dopey smile on your face gives Chris all the confirmation he needs to take the empty seat next to you. “You should come up with something new.”

“Is that right? Any suggestions?” Damn it, he’s still as hot as you remember. “I could just tell you how stunning you look in this dress instead.” 

You feel a flush creep up your neck at his compliment. "That's a start," you manage to say, trying to keep your cool. "But I've heard better."

Chris smiles leaning in a tad bit closer. Just enough for you to notice, "Oh? Then I'll have to up my game." His eyes sparkle with mischief. "How about this - I've been waiting to see you again every night for a month. I was starting to worry I'd lost my touch. What good am I if I can’t get the prettiest woman coming back to see me?"

You laugh, the tension easing slightly. "Maybe I was just playing hard to get."

"Were you now?" Chris raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "And here I thought you forgot about me."

"Trust me, it's impossible to forget about you," Your mouth was moving before you could stop yourself. We’ll blame that on the alcohol. 

“You’ve thought about me then?” He asks with a smile that’s much sweeter than any other that you’ve seen tonight.

Fuck it, let loose, It’s Christmas eve. 

“Maybe I have, but the details are classified.” That takes his sweet smile and turns it into a blush real quick. You can’t help but mirror him since you just indirectly admitted to thinking of him while you had some solo play over the past month - which is one hundred percent true.

“Classified, hm?” He speaks up, nodding. “I’ve thought about you too. And those details are free to the public. If you ask for them.”

Your heart races at his bold admission. That was unexpected. You lean in closer, your voice lowering to a sultry whisper. "And what if I did ask?"

Chris' eyes darken ever so slighty. He leans in too, his breath hot against your ear. "Then I'd tell you how I've imagined your soft skin under my hands, the taste of your lips, the sound of your moans as I..."

He trails off, pulling back slightly to gauge your reaction. Your breath catches in your throat, heat pooling low in your belly.

"As you what?" You breathe, unable to look away from his intense gaze.

Chris grins, hoping that he has you hooked. "On second thought, that information is classified. The rest you'll have to find out from experience."

You swallow hard, your mind racing with possibilities. "And how exactly would I do that?"

He reaches out, his fingers trailing lightly over your hand that’s resting on the bar. 

“Come with me downstairs.” There’s a downstairs to this place? “I’ll get you away from the noise and then we can make some of our own.” 

Your heart races as you consider his offer. Every bit of you is screaming at you to take his offer and bring your lingering fantasies to life but you still try to play hard to get. At least you were going to before the alcohol and desire coursing through your veins drowned everything out and had you nodding in a quick second. 

"Lead the way" You say, your voice huskier than intended.

Chris' eyes light up with a mix of surprise and excitement. He stands, offering you his hand before you could even dare to change your mind. You take it, relishing the warmth of his skin against yours. As you slide off the barstool, you take him in and realize just how little justice your memory of him does for his insane body.

He guides you through the semi-crowded club, his hand on the small of your back sending shivers up your spine. You follow him down a narrow staircase, the music fading as you descend. The basement level is dimly lit, with plush velvet sofas and private alcoves tucked away in corners.

He leads you over to one of the private spaces, very few of them are free but he leads you to the one in the corner like it was reserved just for him. “After you.” You step into the cozy space. There’s a couch on one side, a semi-sofa on the other with a small table next to it, then there’s nothing but a bare wall.

Chris slides the door shut behind the two of you as he steps in and it’s almost like you’ve entered your own soundproof barrier.

He almost looks sheepish when he steps forward to close the space between the two of you. His hand finds its way back to the small of your back, his touch gentle and warm. You turn to face him fully, his proximity making your heart race.

"Now where were we?" He whispers, his shy smile turning into a more sly one. You look up at him, unable to tear your gaze away from his. 

"I like your coat." You comment, changing the subject to buy yourself time to calm down but the desire thick in your tone lets you know that there’s little that you can do to calm yourself. "It looks good on you."

He grins, "It would look better on you." Before you can protest he's shrugging the long white fur off of his shoulders, leaving his broad build open on display for you. You stare, taking in each dip and curve of his chest and stomach. How could you not?

He drapes the coat over your shoulders and you smile in a nearly futile attempt to stop the moan clawing up your throat when you realize that the warm fabric smells like him. You slip your arms in the sleeves and Chris hums in approval.

"Now..." He brushes your hair back, his gaze shifting into something more possessive now that you're wearing his coat. "Where were we?"

"Right about here, I think." 

Before he can react your lips are on his in a hungry and demanding kiss. We'll blame this on the alcohol too.

 You melt into him, your hands indulgently taking in the soft skin of his bare shoulders while he returns your passion. His tongue traces along your bottom lip and you part them, allowing him entry. 

He groans into the kiss, his hands finding purchase on your waist for just a second before he lets them trail up under the fabric of his coat and over the sheer of your dress. Every inch of you that he takes in is better than anything he could've imagined in the month that you've been on his mind.

 He pulls you closer, his desire getting the better of him. He has to know what you feel like against him. He just has to.

 You can feel his erection pressing into your hip and a rush of arousal floods between your thighs. 

Your hands explore his chest, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. He pulls back slightly, his breathing heavy as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with need.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his accent sending shivers down your spine. "This is part of those classified details, ya know."

"Mine too." you admit, biting your lip. "So don't stop."

With a growl, Chris captures your lips once more, his hands sliding further up your back just to slide back down to your waist. You press yourself against him, craving every bit of him you can get your hands on. The proximity deepens the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth, leaving you breathless.

His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing them through the fabric of your dress. A soft moan escapes you and he swallows it, his lips trail kisses along your jaw and down to the sensitive spot on your neck. You squirm against him, his touch driving you crazy.

"Fuck, Chris," You gasp, gripping his shoulders tightly.

"Say my name again," He breathes, his teeth grazing your skin.

"Chris," You whimper, his name slipping from your lips without a second thought.

His hands leave their exploration of your curves and trail their way up the backs of your thighs and over the curve of your ass. He lifts you up, bypassing both sofas to pin you against the wall. Your legs wrap around his bare torso, pushing his pants down lower on his hips. Once he has you settled he begins to work his way down your neck, his lips setting off a blazing trail of fire across your skin.

"So soft," he mumbles, his accent thicker now, betraying his growing desire.

His mouth trails back up to yours, stamping a hot kiss against your lips and pulling away right after. You whine, chasing his lips with yours. 

"Impatient, are we?" He chuckles, his hands pushing the bunched up fabric of your dress further up your thighs. You shiver, goosebumps forming where his fingertips brush against your skin.

"You're doing everything right, how could I not be." 

"Oh? Is that so?" He hums, his lips brush over yours teasingly.

"It is." You breathe, your hands moving over his shoulders to tangle in his hair. This time you kiss him, it’s deep and indulgent but then you break it to kiss over his jaw. 

"You're a fucking tease, you know that?" He groans, his thumbs stroking the smooth skin of your thighs. It’s taking all of his self control not to absolutely rip you apart.

"Me?" You breathe, smiling against his skin as you place another kiss. "I'm not the one whose been flaunting around the club half-naked all night. And now you’re here teasing me."

Your teeth graze over the shell of his ear and his cock jumps in his pants. He moves swiftly yet gently, turning to lay you down on the sofa. 

“Am I being a tease?” He asks, staring down at you with those dark brown eyes while his hands work on his belt. You watch the way his fingers move so strategically. The veins in his hands alone are enough to get you feeling hotter. “How can I make it up to you?”

He’s diving down to attach your lips before you can even answer. His hands smooth over your curves hurriedly until he reminds himself to take his time with you. His hands are back on your breasts, pulling down the red fabric of your dress to expose you to him. He catches himself, stopping and pulling back just a bit.

“Can I see you? Is that alright?” You nod, whimpering a hasty “yes” then crashing your lips back to his. He moans against you, pulling down the last of the fabric containing your breasts until they’re resting in his palms. He groans and you swallow it. 

Chris lighty pinches and pulls at your nipples, the buds rise at the attention and you moan in response. "You like that?"

"Yes," Your fingers tangle in his hair and tug. "How about this?" He rolls one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your head falling back.

"That's it, baby. Let me hear you." He dips his head down and takes one of the stiff peaks into his mouth. The sound it pulls from you is unbecoming but you ignore the embarrassment lingering in your chest and let the pleasure spread further. 

Chris on the other hand, is in love with every sound you make and he’s determined to hear more. His teeth graze over your nipple. Your grip tightens, a louder moan escaping you. "Just like that."

His hands trail down, pulling your dress further up your thighs until the black lace covering your soaked sex is in full view. His hands stroking the underside of your thighs, teasing you further and you nearly fall apart at the seams.

"Chris," You moan, grinding up into him. Begging for him to touch you where you need him most.

"How wet are you, pretty girl?" He coos, his hand slides up between your legs. You gasp and he groans when his fingers trace over the lace of your panties. "Fuck, you're soaked."

"Please," You beg, bucking against his hand. "You’re driving me crazy." His thumb circles over your clit and your hips rock in time with his movements. You're already so close, and he's barely touched you.

His tongue darts out to lick over your neglected nipple. You shudder, your nails dig into his shoulders and he hisses at the sweet sting.

"I want you," you plead, trailing a hand down the expanse of his back. He continues his ministrations, kissing and nipping at your sensitive bud while his fingers work smooth circles over your clit. 

Your legs are practically shaking with desire but your needy whimpers are nothing compared to all that Chris is holding back while he strokes himself on his knees in front of you. You’ve hardly noticed that his hard cock is in his hand, leaking and angry red at the tip but that’s only because he’s swallowing every moan that he possibly can just so that he can hear you clearly. He wants to remember this.  

"Chris," you moan, grinding up against his touch. He pulls back, letting your nipple go with a faint pop.

"What is it, love?" His face is twisted in pleasure as he pants, trying desperately to keep himself in check.

"I need you," You whine, grabbing and rubbing over his bare chest until you grab hold of one of his chains.

"Tell me what you want." He wants to hear you say it. He needs to.

"Fuck me." You breathe, your cheeks flushed. "Please."

Chris doesn't need any further encouragement. In a swift motion, he's standing and lifting you up again. His lips find yours in a hungry kiss and you melt against him.

He turns around and sits down with you straddling him. His bare cock rests against the soaked lace of your panties and he can’t help but to make a sound that he didn’t know was possible. 

His hands grip your hips, digging in like you're the only thing grounding him to reality. "You're sure about this?" 

He asks, his voice low and rough. You nod, reaching between you to move your panties to the side and sit your bare cunt over his length. He hisses, his breath catching in his throat "Oh, fuck." His head falls back against the sofa.

"Let me ride you," You whisper, leaning in and pressing a kiss to his neck. Chris’ face is red, blushed crazy with desperate desire and restraint. You lift up and pump his cock, spreading your dripping slick and getting him nice and wet before you sink down. 

You two are a splitting image of each other. Faces twisted in pleasure, fingers digging into the other and choked moans spilling over your kiss swollen lips. 

"Fuck, you're so wet." He groans, holding his breath just to make sure he doesn’t bust too fast. "So tight."

“You’re fucking big. Oh god.” Your head falls back, eyes shut tight as you take in the stretch of him. 

Chris hisses, his hips instinctively bucking up into you. "Shit, sorry. Are you okay?" 

He holds still, his hands massaging the swell of your ass. You nod, adjusting to his size. "Yeah, just please move. Don’t stop." 

You're impatient, rocking your hips against him. Chris is quick to give in, rocking his hips up slowly until he loses it and starts snapping his hips up into yours. He drives his cock deep and hard into your fluttering cunt and you clench around him wildly, fucking down onto him like he’s the last man you’ll ever touch. 

You can feel every inch of him, his length dragging along your walls and hitting every spot inside you. It's like the two of you are a perfect fit. Chris' hands roam over your body, mapping every inch of exposed skin. 

"So fucking beautiful," he mutters, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he watches the way your tits bounce in his face. "Look at you, taking me so well." He holds your hips still, keeping you in place while he fucks his thick length up into you. You cling to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he fucks into you. 

Chris' eyes flutter shut, a string of curses falling from his lips. His fingers dig into your hips with each bounce of you on his cock. 

"Is this what you wanted, pretty girl?" He grunts and you clench, driving him closer to the edge. “Is that what you thought about?”

The sounds coming from the both of you are filthy. Pornographic in nature and incessant. 

"Y-yes," you manage to gasp, your fingers digging into the muscles of his chest, surely leaving marks to remember you by. "Just like that. Oh, oh fuck, Chris. You're gonna make me cum." 

Your words send him reeling, his thrusts faltering slightly. "Do it, baby," he rasps, his eyes burning into yours. "Cum all over my cock." 

The coil in your belly snaps, his name spilling from your lips as you cum. Your release has his head spinning. The tight squeeze of your cunt and the sounds he has vibrating from your chest drag him closer to his own blinding release. He holds back, fucking you through your high with a sloppy rhythm. 

"Fuck, I'm close." You pry his grip from your hips and lift up off of him, sinking down to your knees. You look prettier than Chris can handle, on your knees with his fur coat pooling around you. Your lips wrap around his throbbing cock and he moans, his hand finding purchase in your hair immediately.

"Shit, yes, oh god." He breathes, his hips rocking forward. "So good, jus’ like that." A deep, guttural moan escapes his lips and his hips stutter. "Fuck, oh fuck." 

His eyes shut tight as you bury his cock deep in your throat, swallowing around him and milking his chest dry of every last ounce of oxygen he possessed.

You hum, reaching down between your legs and rubbing your throbbing pussy while he makes such pretty sounds above you.

"’M gonna cum," He groans, his accent thick and his grip on your hair tightening. You keep your pace, bringing your hand up to stroke what can’t fit into your mouth as you suck and lick him like you know everything that drives him crazy - because somehow, you do.

His jaw clenches, his abs tense and the muscles in his neck strain and suddenly you wish that you were still on top of him, letting him fill you full of his sticky seed but that will have to wait until next time. 

Chris tenses above you, a loud groan erupting from him as the first spurt of hot cum falls against your tongue. 

"Fuck, oh, fuck. Just like that, baby. ‘M cumming for you, take it all." He shudders, rambling as his body jerks as he spills himself down your throat. You swallow him greedily, his sweet taste lingering on your tongue. 

Chris' breathing is heavy, his chest rises and falls rapidly while he watches you. You pull up off of him, kissing the head of his twitching dick while his heart races.

You smile at him, "Good?" You ask, wiping the corners of your mouth. “Are you kidding me?” Chris huffs out a breathy laugh. "So fucking good." 

"Come here," He mumbles, lifting you up and bringing you to his lap. His coat drags behind you and he runs his hands up under the furry fabric and over your back. “You look so good in this.”

He fixes your dress, bringing it up to cover your exposed chest and smoothes the fabric over your thighs. “Do you say that to every girl you let borrow your clothes?”

Chris smiles, shaking his head and running his greedy hands up your thighs. 

“You're the only girl I’ve ever let wear something of mine. And I’ll keep it that way under one condition.” You smile, resting your own greedy hands over his chest and leaning into him. 

“What would that be?” He cups your cheek bringing you in for a soft kiss, much softer than what’s in his job description. In his defense, he’s never felt this much chemistry with any other lady who’s walked through the front door of this club.

“Come back soon, okay?” He smiles against your lips and kisses you again, whispering this time. “And I’ll make sure that you’re the only one wearing my clothes both inside and outside of the club.”

You mirror his smile, kissing his lips with a tenderness you didn’t foresee when you first met him. 

“Deal.”

Thank You For Reading! 💕

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[blvdheart]

LIKE A LITTLE PIECE OF HEAVEN

→ Sneaking around with your grandparents’ ranch hand during the summer!

CW: x Fem!reader with she/her pronouns, starts with fluff and turns into smut, switch!Leon, dry humping, cowgirl, butterfly (i think that’s the position name?), fingering, short hold the moan snippet, reader wears a sundress at one point, mention of a palm injury via a cut

WC: 1.8k

NOTE: written just for fun to entertain myself during an excruciatingly long car ride, sorry that it’s fast paced </3 title lyric is from ‘tulsa jesus freak’ also i tried my best at a southern accent for him okay

MASTERLINK

You always complained whenever your parents sent you on your annual trip to your grandparents’ place. Mosquitoes ran rampant and a prayer whilst holding hands was mandatory before every meal. Summer was supposed to be a break so you could be lazy in bed all day, but now you had to go help tend to the animals.

Sure, farm animals are cute and all…but gushing over how adorable they are is much different from actually taking care of them. So much for that ‘Charlotte’s Web’ childhood dream of yours, none of the pigs are like Wilbur!

But you had a change of attitude when you went the summer after your freshman year of college. Upon your arrival, your suitcase was hauled by strong skin-kissed hands, like if your packed belongings weighed a mere pound.

Looking up, your eyes met irises that rivaled the beauty of the ocean.

Oh.

You almost had to physically lift your jaw back up to introduce yourself. Then you ran upstairs to bury your face into your pillow.

Leon Kennedy. Would his last name suit your first name? Or vice versa? Jesus.

That first summer was full of fleeting glances and flirtatious conversation. There was something romantic about being in a space far away from civilization. Like you were in your own little universe with him whenever the two of you snuck around. During dinners, you always nudged at his leg with your boot to mess with him, liking the way he cleared his throat to ward off a smile.

And maybe you relied on silly methods to see if your feelings for him were reciprocated.

Pluck.

He likes me.

Pluck.

He likes me not.

Pluck.

He likes me.

Pluck.

He likes me not.

Pluck. Last one.

He likes me!!!

Childish excitement coursed through you, an instantaneous smile on your face. You thanked Mother Nature for giving you the answer you wanted.

You also thanked the Sun every day for gifting freckles to Leon. One day, you held onto his face and tried to count them all. Squinting your eyes, you counted aloud, missing the way he looked at you with nothing but sweetness in his gaze.

The world around you was muted, as if the cows standing behind the fence had stopped mooing just for the sake of your concentration.

“Sure this is gonna work? Listen, I’ve always been an optimistic fella but—“

“Shh, you’re distracting me.” After a beat, you groaned. “Fuck I lost count. Okay, hold still for real this time.”

“Sure, doll.” She’s real cute, he thought to himself.

Or that one time when the Sun’s beams were too hot and made Leon take his hat off so he could pour a fresh bucket of water on his head. You felt so betrayed at the sight.

“You’re shitting me!”

“What?”

“Your roots…” Not very polite, but you pointed at his hair. “I thought you were blonde. Like, born blonde.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He hid his amusement with a shrug, lowering his head to give you a better look. “Haven’t had time to dye it.”

And of course, you owed the Moon some gratitude for being an audience member to a memory you cherished. If said memory could be physically stored, you’d keep it on a frame so you could rewatch the moment your relationship blossomed.

The confession came when two heartbeats aligned, two bodies snuggled against each other on top of the roof. Leon gazed at you as if you hung up the stars and moon that were beautifully assorted in the sky, the same ones he had admired all alone prior to you coming here. He never thought he’d have a pretty woman wanting to get to know him.

“This is crazy…I can actually see the constellations out here.” Your words were a murmur, the glimmering dots above reflecting in your pupils.

“And ya couldn’t back at home?”

“Pfft. With all the pollution in the city? Not a chance.”

“Yeah? Mus’ be a special night for ya, then.”

It was. But not because of the view, rather, because of the handsome guy holding you close like you were his girlfriend.

“Yeah, it is.”

A hat was placed onto your head. His hat.

You broke your admiration of the stars, turning to look at him instead. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, suddenly his hand was cupping the side of your face. His skin was scarred and calloused against yours, a physical manifestation of how different his lifestyle was from yours.

Books always made it seem like butterflies would be swarming in your stomach at moments like these. But you felt calm. This was fate, it was supposed to happen. And who were you to deny the universe’s pull and Cupid’s arrow?

Leon was a gentleman first and foremost. “Can I…?”

“Mhm.”

Your first kiss was witnessed by the moon.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

You kept in touch through letters. Leon was old fashioned, and very rarely did he pick up his cheap flip phone when you tried giving him a call. Something about his phone always being stored away, he hardly used the thing anyway. He already had the task of picking up the mail, so it wasn’t like your grandpa or grandma would get it.

You didn’t mind much. There was something endearing about sending letters, running to the mail like you were a dog fetching the weekly newspaper. It was hard to imagine his voice sometimes when reading his letters because he wrote all properly, it didn’t match his accent.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to send another letter. I accidentally cut my hand when fixing up a fence and it took a while to heal, it left a scar. I’m okay though, promise. Just don’t want you to think I forgot about you or anything like that. Your grandpa was real nice about it, he gave me some time off, he’s got a kind heart. And your grandma kept cooking up some soup…said it would help me heal quicker. Not sure if it’s true, but it left my stomach happy and that counts for something.

The entire time I was resting, I found myself thinking of you. Would you have patched my hand up if you were here? Kissed my pain away?

Every time I look at the moon, I wonder if you are too.”

You always traced over his handwriting with an unclicked pen before proceeding to leave a kiss mark on the corner of the page and putting it in your stored pile.

Summer became the highlight of your years. You actually packed cute clothes now, flowy sundresses and some matching undergarments you wouldn’t mind Leon seeing. Of course, you also bought some riding gear, wanting to partake in his hobbies too.

The instant you were back at the farm and the two of you were alone, Leon grabbed you by the hips and pressed you up against the outdoor wall of the house, smiling at you all coyly.

“Missed ya. Shoulda jus’ stayed here with me.”

“Thought you liked me for pursuing a higher education?” Your grin matched his. Maybe after you got your degree you’d join him more often.

“Mhm.” God, that intellect of yours was sexy. He could listen to you ramble about your ambitions for ages. “Wish that college of yers was nearby, though.”

“That makes two of us…I missed you too, by the way.” Your lips inched closer to his. “A lot.”

His cheeks turned roseate, his heart thumping as fast as the hooves of a bronco at a rodeo. “…Yeah?”

“Don’t sound so unsure! Need me to show you?”

“I’d appreciate that, y’know how I am.” Leon wasn’t the most self assured, having been worried you’d find some college guy to get with.

All it took was some more sweet talking and daring touches on your end before he hoisted one of your legs up with your permission, the fabric of your dress lifting and bunching around your hips, the plush of your ass pressed against the weathered down paint of the walls.

He let you set the pace, keeping you steady as you bucked your hips against him, your panties soaking from the friction of his rough denim jeans. Your mouths clashed messily out of pent up desperation.

It didn’t go farther than dry humping, though.

Leon made sure your first time with him was more planned out, not wanting it to be in some confined space or rushed. You rode him until dawn, your knees meeting the soft blanket he laid down against the grass with each roll of your hips.

“Ah ah ah. Slow, sweetheart, slow.” He pleaded in a throaty voice, you were killing him, milking him over and over.

“Fuck…okay.” You slowed your pace, your breaths mingling when you rested your forehead against his.

“That’s it. Like that.”

And after that, there were more spontaneous times.

You wanted to get dicked down on your mattress so that’s what Leon gave you, if only your bed wasn’t so fucking squeaky. He had to put pillows behind your headboard.

“Shh…gotta be quiet f’me.” His hand covered your mouth, muting the moans that almost spilled from your mouth.

Leon wouldn’t live to see another day if his boss found his sweet granddaughter’s ankles hugging his neck and her toes all curled.

You ran your nails against his scalp, turning his hair into a mess, taking advantage of the fact he didn’t have a hat indoors. He bit down on his lip harshly to prevent himself from groaning aloud. Yeah, he had to climb out your window after that.

You almost got caught once inside one of the rundown abandoned stalls that was in need of some fixing. You were sitting betweens Leon’s spread legs, his hand down your pants. His palm gently smacked your clit with every push of his fingers inside your cunt. Open-mouthed kisses grazed your neck, making you loll your head to the side.

If only your granddaddy hadn’t interrupted.

“Son, ya in here?” Some incoherent grumbles before he got to the point, thankfully giving you some time to smack Leon’s hand away, snickering at the expression on his face — like he was about to be put six feet under. “Need yer help with the pipe I was tellin’ ya about earlier.”

“‘m on it.” Leon called out after pecking your lips, but there was a crack in his voice that left you silently giggling as he got up and wiped his fingers on his pants. He seemed so embarrassed, sparing you an apologetic glance and then tipping his hat down to hide his flustered expression from his boss.

But who knows, your grandparents adored Leon. One day he’d muster up the courage to tell them he was sweet on you, or maybe they’d catch the two of you holding hands under the dinner table.

Either way, you were no mere summer fling, and he let that be known by adorning your finger with a shiny promise ring.

[novemberheart]

{overview} You and your pack navigate through your heat

{warnings} fem reader, poly 141, a/b/o dynamics, MDNI, sexual content, mating & marking, p in v sex, multiple partners, cursing

Chapter 32 <- Chapter 33 -> Chapter 34

You weren't quite sure if you had even been so well cared for in your life. If you had- it felt minuscule compared to this.

Your alpha and betas had set up John's bedroom to accommodate you. They moved your bed into John’s room, pushing your bed with his to make one large one.

You weren't even sure if you needed the pills to spur on your heat. They were doing a good job with that already.

You could tell Kyle was livid. While he was in better physical condition- out of a sling and cast, he still wasn't cleared to lift heavy objects or do anything too strenuous. He settled for stocking the bedroom up with your favorite snacks, and drinks, while also helping you collect items around the house to build your nest with. To him, it felt small, but to you, it meant the world.

The pill looked big even in Kyle’s large hand.

“What if it doesn't work? I'm not good with heats anywa”-

“‘Nough of that, my love,” Kyle cut you off. You were perched on his good knee, his arms holding you as close to him as possible. He brushed some stray hairs away from your face. “Being a bit irregular with your heats means absolutely nothing and I wish we could get that through your pretty head,” Kyle sighed, his lips pressing against your temple in emphasis. John hummed in agreement, emerging from the kitchen with a glass of orange juice. You would need all the nutrients you could get.

“He’s right, sweet girl,” John sighed. He handed you the glass, bending over the couch, his lips pecking yours. “Bloody perfect,” he mumbled. You maintained eye contact when he pulled away, the look in your eyes making him groan. “Save that for Simon.”

“I want you to mark me too,” you whined. He clenched his jaw, his knuckles white against the couch.

“Can’t say no to that, John,” Kyle begged softly, his own brown eyes pleading. “The doctor said it would be alright if you stayed with her,” Kyle reminded. “The smell of you will help. You're both their alphas,” Kyle continued, referencing you and Simon.

“He snapped at me earlier”- John began to remind.

“Because you tried to take her from me,” Simon spoke, causing you to jump. “I don't mind sharing, as long as it’s an equal give and take,” Simon kept his eyes on you as he spoke. You whined softly, shifting on Kyle’s knee. You took a deep breath and grabbed the pill from Kyle’s hand, popping it into your mouth with one fluid motion.

“Are betas invited to this?” Johnny breathed from the doorway.

That would only be fair.

You would think eight hands would be enough. Yet not one of them seemed to dull the fire in your belly.

“How ya’ doing, pet?” Simon hummed. His mouth hadn't left your shoulder, trying to find where his mark would look best on you. He made sure to avoid John’s spot, the alpha grumbling when he even came close to it. You were sprawled out on top of Kyle- a panting and whiny mess.

“I’m hot,” you whined. Johnny's hands were the first to reach you, preferring to yank at your shorts than the tank top you were wearing. Kyle chuckled beneath you, his hands moving gently up your sides, pinching the hem between his fingers.

“This alright, lovie?” he hummed softly. You nodded quickly, sitting up so you were straddling his waist.

“Go slow,” Simon groaned, his hands expanding over every inch of skin Kyle uncovered as he pulled your tank top over your head. “Fuckin’ hell,” he cursed softly. The others had hardly any time to enjoy the sight before Simon was pushing you back against Kyle, hovering over both of you. John stopped Johnny from pressing himself between the two of you, by rolling atop the excited hound.

“Just enjoy the show,” John murmured against his heated cheek. “Yes?”

“Yes, alpha,” Johnny agreed, his eyes already narrowing on you. John rolled onto his side, Johnny's ass pressed firmly against the growing bulge in his pants. You clawed at Kyle’s shirt, the fabric tearing under your nails. You kept the torn shirt in bed, the soft fabric making decent nesting material. His warm skin still felt cold against you, your omega purring softly at the contact.

Simon's hand gripping the waistband of your shorts caught your attention. He paused, waiting for the go-ahead. You wiggled your hips in response, pushing back hoping to catch any sort of friction. He grumbled something low in his throat, pushing you back down against Kyle. He finished what Johnny had started, pulling your shorts down your legs. His hands massaged their way back up your legs, his thumbs digging into the sore flesh. His hand dipped between your legs giving your inner thigh a rough squeeze.

“My mark have to go on ‘er shoulder?” Simon hummed, bending down just enough for his teeth to graze over your bottom.

“Nobody’ll see it there,” Kyle hummed a lazy smirk across his face. His fingers ran up and down your sides, making you erupt in goosebumps.

“Cannae have that,” Johnny mumbled. Johnny's hands had twisted themselves in John's shirt to stop himself from digging into your softness. Simon's fingers brushed over your clothed heat, a small gasp escaping you. You buried your face in Kyle's neck, your thighs twitching around Simon’s hand.

“Soaked through the fabric,” He mumbled, his thumb swirling experimentally. Johnny groaned loudly, John pressing him further into the mattress. Your scent had already switched a flip in the beta's brains, their breathing syncing with yours, the room filling with soft, needy pants. You whined, your hips raising away from Kyle's, your ass high in the air. “That’s it, sweet girl,” Simon muttered. His thumb pressed down, finally giving you the pressure you were chasing. A breathy moan left your lips, Kyle's hips shifting below you at the noise.

Simon pulled his hand away.

“No,” you grumbled, your hand catching his wrist. He pulled away quickly, his hands pushing yours back down towards Kyle.

“Be a good girl,” Simon warned, his hand heading back between your thighs. Simon's finger wrapped around your panties beginning to pull them down your legs. Slow enough to torture you, but fast enough to give you hope. Kyle's hand collided with your bottom made you jolt, your shriek being cut off with a moan. His hands pressed against you, stopping the sting before it had even arrived.

“Couldn’t help it,” Kyle apologized against your ear. “Should see my bloody view,” he grumbled, his teeth catching your ear. His hands flung to your thighs, spreading them apart for Simon. The sudden movement leaves you completely exposed. Johnny ran his fingers over Kyles, his mouth watering at the way you pooled around Kyles fingers due to his strong grip.

A large hand rested on Johnny’s lower stomach, making his breath hitch. His hips instinctively rolled upwards, the tightness in his boxers bordering on painful.

“Doing so good, hound,” John murmured in his ear, his hand finally dipping below his waistband. He made no move to wrap around his cock, instead favoring scratching up Johnny’s thighs.

Simon's thumb slipped between your folds. His thumb running up and down your bundle of nerves slowly, applying more pressure than your body may have been ready for. You gasped out a moan, your hips trying to pull away. You would've succeeded had Kyle not held you in place.

“Too much,” you whined. You bit down on Kyle’s shoulder, growling against his skin.

“So sensitive,” Kyle groaned, against your cheek. He raised his head, biting you back.

“Simon,” you whimpered out. You were torn. One second you were pushing yourself back against his hand, the next moment you were trying to squirm out of Kyle’s grasp. “Kyle,” you added. The beta groaned underneath you, giving your thighs a squeeze.

“What do you want me to do, lovie?” he hummed,

“Make him slow down,” you panted, your eyes nearly in the back of your head.

“Just take what your alpha has to give you, love,” Kyle whispered against your head. Your mouth fell open at his words, the pressure in your lower stomach building at a rapid pace.

“I’m not ready to cum,” you babbled. That made Simon stop. You could feel him before you could see him, his large body draping over you and Kyle.

“Not ready?” he mumbled. His lips pressed against your heated cheek, breathing in your scent deeply. You quickly nodded your head. “How about comin’ around a cock?” he mumbled. His words affected everyone, each of them letting out a groan or a gasp. You could only manage a nod. “Words, sweet girl,” He grumbled.

“Yes, please,” you panted.

“Might know someone who could help you with that,” Simon mumbled, his scruff rubbing against your shoulder as he pulled you up by wrapping a strong arm around your middle. One of his hands rested against your stomach, your thighs shaking around Kyle’s hips. Simon's other grabbed yours, guiding them to the band of Kyle’s sweats. Kyle's breathing picked up, his chest rising and falling quickly. Your hands ran over the dark curly hair on his lower stomach, your fingers curling into the fabric of his pants. Kyle groaned as he was finally set free, the tip of his cock resting against his belly button. Your mouth fell open again. He was intimidatingly long. While he didn't match John or Johnny in girth, no spots inside you would go untouched after him.

“Kyky,” you whined, growing nervous. He shushed you gently, leaning up to hold you against his chest. Hands were on you in an instant, rubbing soothing circles against your soft skin.

“We’ll go as slow as you need to, princess,” Kyle murmured, brushing your hair away from your heated cheeks. “If you still want to,” he added, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. You nodded your head. You did want to continue, you just didn't want to make a fool out of yourself.

“Slow?” you mumbled back.

“Slow,” he affirmed. You rested your head against his shoulder, your eyes meeting Johnny’s. He leaned forward, his lips capturing yours. Kyle whined when Simon wrapped a large hand around his cock, tapping his tip against your soaked folds making you gasp. Johnny let go of you, settling back against John, both men watching you for any signs of discomfort- or pleasure. Kyle's hands remained on you, keeping you grounded and soothed. Simon guided him to your entrance, precum already staining your pretty folds. He pushed in gently, both of you gasping as he pushed past your tight seal.

“Fuck,” Kyle grumbled, his lips pressing against yours to distract him from the warmth enveloping his tip. You moaned against him, your hips pushing themselves down. You don't know what you were worried about. Every inch was pure bliss as he rolled his hips against yours, slowly splitting you open. You pulled away, sitting up suddenly. The new angle giving everyone a perfect view of his throbbing cock losing itself inside you. You whined, your claws scratching against his hips, trying not to break skin. Your eyes trained between your thighs, Simon's hands holding your hips steady. You were nearly there, just a few more inches. “Fuckin’ perfect,” Kyle growled, his thumb running over your clit, using the same movement Simon had. You tightened even more around him, the action making him stop. “Open up for me baby,” he purred, taking all the power away from you as he rested his hands on your side, pushing you down further on his cock.

You were praised when you finally sunk down, your cunt nestled against his sparse curly hair.

“So deep,” you whined, your knees already beginning to give up.

“So deep,” Kyle repeated. If he wasn't so enamored with the sight before him, his eyes would be in the back of his skull. You fit him like a fucking glove, every inch and vein finding the perfect home in your suffocating heat. He couldn't stop himself anymore. He sat up, strong arms wrapping around your middle, using the leverage to pull you down against his chest, his hips rolling out of you in one fluid motion. You didn't have time to dwell on the suddenly empty feeling, because he rolled back into you making your vision go spotty. You cursed, your nails digging into his arms causing the skin to break. Neither one of you could care. You joined his rhythm quickly, the two of you panting and whining like animals. Your hands pressed against his chest, pushing his back down against the mattress, fucking yourself on his cock.

The room was silent besides the two of you, everyone too enraptured to even move.

“Just like that, lovie,” Kyled encouraged, using his hips to guide you when you lost your rhythm. You were begging now. Physically and verbally.

“Please, Ky,” you nearly sobbed. “I need”-

You cut yourself off with a moan, not able to focus on anything other than the drag of his cock against your walls. Your lower half had given out, your forehead resting against his shoulder. He didn't seem to mind though, his hips picking up right where you left off- better actually. Simon's hand rested on your stomach, slowly traveling lower like he was trying to please you without interrupting. His middle finger rolling over your clit was the final nail in your coffin.

You came hard- all of your senses shutting off. Pleasure coursing through your veins with such relentlessness you couldn't do anything but sob out.

“No, no, no,” Kyle growled as your hips tried to escape his grasp, he held you down, his own hips leaving the bed with how deep he buried himself inside you. The only thing you could feel was sudden warmth unloading itself inside you. It wasn't a knot, but it was enough to satiate the clawing urge inside you, your cunt absorbing as much as it could from him. He flopped against the bed, holding you close. He had never felt so lifeless yet alive at the same time. His own body quivered at the intense high.

You couldn't feel anything except Kyle. You couldn't quite tell where you ended and he started. Every twitch, groan, and mumble felt like it could be yours. You could feel lips against you. A pair on the back of your arms, a pair on your shoulder, and a pair on your forehead. You could instantly recognize John’s hand on your lower back, your omega purring happily deep within the chamber of your chest. His hand rested against your cheek, his thumb running under your wet eyes.

“You both did so good,” he murmured, making both of you preen. They were shocked actually, that Kyle was able to perform as well as he had, given the condition he was in just a couple of weeks ago. Simon rested against the two of you, half on his side, half draped over you.

A lazy smile etched your face when Johnny began to kiss against your jaw.

“Mac,” you mumbled. Your leg extended forward, wanting to be near him. Instead, your leg skimmed against a wet spot in his boxers. He grumbled quietly, a hazy look in his eyes. You peered down, coming in contact with the mess he had made in his boxers. Wasn't his fault John was stroking him in time with Kyle’s thrusts. You whined at the loss, pulling at his boxers, thick, white ropes staining his skin and the red fabric.

“Why’re you whining?” he questioned, teeth nipping just below your ear.

“Could’ve come in me,” you whined, looking at him through your wet lashes. He groaned, his forehead bumping against yours.

“You were a bit full at the moment, peaches,” he reminded, his lips quirking. Kyle’s chest rumbled with a chuckle. “I can give ya’ more if you stop pouting,” Johnny soothed, his hand flattening over your back. “As long as it’s alright with the alphas,” Johnny smirked, rubbing his cheek against yours, coming face to face with Simon.

Simon's eyes scanned over to John like it was a decision that needed discussing.

“She needs all the prep she can get for you,” John hummed. Simon grinned like a shark. You were too high for the words to even register.

“Have at it, pup,” Simon sighed. Johnny breathed in relief, grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to spot he had previously occupied. He rested over you, peeling off his shirt, which you quickly stole out of his hands, rubbing your cheek against. He smiled down at you, kicking his boxers to the floor. He pressed your knees together, kissing each of them before hooking your legs onto his arms. You giggled, the stretch actually feeling quite nice on your achy legs.

He ran the head of his cock through your folds, Kyle's spend already beginning to seep out of you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he began to bully himself inside of you.

“Steamin’ hell, you even open her up Garrick?” Johnny groaned through gritted teeth. You accepted him greedily, your walls clamping around him like a vice. Kyle was too blissed out to be mad, Simon speaking for him when his hand collided with Johnny’s ass. His hips stuttered, a not-so-surprising groan escaping his lips. If he wasn't spreading you out in all the right places you would've laughed. “Fuckin’”- Johnny cut himself off, his mouth attaching to your neck and chest, leaving teeth marks and slobber in his path. “Mine,” he growled against your ear, your head being pushed into the soft pillows. His hips were harsh, the force of it making the headboard collide with the wall. Simon's hand rested on Johnny’s neck, pulling the eager mouth away from you.

It was then he saw it. The perfect spot for his mark. It was across from where John wanted to put his. High enough on your neck where it could be seen with almost any shirt and had just enough room so the mark could be seen from behind and front. His mouth watered at the sight. Must've been why John picked a similar place.

“Don’t stop,” Simon growled against Johnny’s temple. Simon leaned over his teeth nipping at the skin. You had an immediate reaction judging by the way Johnny groaned.

“Alpha,” you gasped, your hands not being able to decide between gripping onto him or Johnny. You settled for both, throwing your head as far back as you could to allow him the space he needed.

He ran his tongue over the sensitive spot, taking a deep breath.

His fangs sunk into the skin with ease.

Hi friends! Hope you enjoyed! SIMON FINALLY DID IT! See you 🫵 in four days for chapter 34! 🧡

[rimunagenius]

I Could Die For you

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x reader

ʚ word count: 1.2k

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , fluff, fluff, literal fluff, so much love that it’s sickening

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: to make up for that last post about emily because what the flip!! also the first Kate fic i’ve released that hasn’t been in a series!! yay! also ofc i had to write Kate to one of my favorite love songs!!💕 if you guys do not listen to this song and love it, i’m quitting writing and reporting everyone’s blog…

| Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

Something inside the cards I know is right

Don't wanna live somebody else's life

Kate was so happy. She knew her life was exactly where she wanted it to be. Cold mornings like this, wrapped in the bed sheets, both your bodies wrapped together to create the most perfect fit to a puzzle.

With your head resting on her body, your nose nuzzling perfectly into her neck, your soft snores and exhales ticking her skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

The way your hand rested on her chest, and the way Kate's hand rested on your waist from the way she was holding you into her body. She knew she didn't want to be anywhere else but here. Lying here, wide awake admiring you and thanking god or whoever was out there, that she was able to do this, and do it with you.

This is what I want to be

And this is what I give to you because I get it free

"Oh my god, Kate." You stood in shock in your guys' kitchen. You had a rough day at work, letting Kate know that while you sat in your office, counting down the minutes until you could come home. So when you walked through the door and wandered into the living room where Kate was watching the NBA finals, she got up to greet you and took you to the kitchen, giving you the flowers and chocolate she picked up on her way home from practice today. 

You had a new adjustments to make since leaving Iowa. Picking up your life and moving to Las Vegas with Kate when she found out she made the roster officially, after living in a hotel room during training camp. You loved her so much, and you had so much faith in the person she was and the skills she had, you knew moving across states wasn't going to be a regret you had years down the line. 

Tears welled in your eyes, the overwhelming feeling of love and appreciation radiating from the blonde who stood a few feet away. "Aw, don't cry. Why are you crying, baby?" Kate walked up to you, wrapping her arms around your neck so you buried your face into her chest. 

"Because. You do this for me just for having a bad day. Your days are full of stress with basketball, still proving yourself, and tired from your work. I don't deserve you, Kate." You were a mess. You missed a lot of things. You missed your old friends, how close your guys' family used to be, and you missed Kate while she was gone. You missed a lot of things—you've longed for those things, but you loved your life here with Kate. You two away from what you knew and grew accustomed to, to independently make what you want and need. 

You loved it but you couldn't help but long for what used to be your life sometimes. "You deserve everything. You deserve the world and more because you packed your life up just because you believed in me. This is the very least I could do for you. I will continue to show you how important you are to me and who I am. You make me better so I'm going to show you every day til I can't anymore. I love you. You work hard and you deserve to be appreciated and seen." 

That made the tears fall harder, but you looked up at Kate, and couldn't believe this was your girl. The woman you got to spend and do life with. You kissed her lips chastely, hugging her close again. You two stood there, looking at the pretty flowers and sharing some of your chocolate. 

She smiles while I do my time

It was so early in the morning. Kate waking you up for a travel day for the Aces. It was an away game to Los Angeles and you wanted to make this game so you took the days off. 

You hated getting up early, and the stress that came with traveling was truly not a great time. Kate knew it, but she loved that you were willing to do it for her.  You didn't like most things, but the look on your girlfriend's face when you watched her do the thing she loves most, play the game that gave her many of the amazing opportunities she's had, it was all worth it. 

Kate walked onto to the court, looking at you behind the Aces bench, and smiled. You already smiling right back at her. She knew that no matter how early she woke you up, or how many times she did it, you'd be there, lift her up, and cheer her on. You knew this was where you wanted to be. 

I could die for you

It was the day after Kate had won the WNBA Finals, and you two had been lying in bed since last night. You couldn't believe that she had come so far from the little girl who idolized the Iowa Hawkeyes Women's Basketball team, to a woman who's grown into the most tremendously courageous and strong woman who won her first WNBA Championship. It was so surreal. 

"You know I love you so much, right?" Kate whispered. One arm wrapped around you, pulling you close to her body, while her other hand held your thigh that lay across her hip. 

"I would hope so." You giggled softly, looking up at the blonde above you, your hand went from her chest to the side of her face, resting against her cheek. You looked into her eyes, the blue of them convincing you more by the second that they were better looking than the sky outside. 

"No, I'm serious. You are the love of my life. I would be so lost without you. I don't think I could live without you—let alone do what I've done this past year without you." Her voice wavered, you could tell her emotions still running high after the night she had last night. 

"Kate, my love." You chuckled nervously, the confession making you giddy, but also overwhelmingly more in love with Kate, if that was even possible. It brought tears to your eyes.

"You make me so happy. Just being right here, with you, is more important to me than winning another ring." 

"Oh my god Kate, stop it. You're going to make me cry. I'm so in love with you." You wiped a small tear that fell down your cheek. Kate smiled down at you, willing herself to not close her eyes and just die happy right here with you. 

"I'm so in love with you, I could die." Kate giggled softly, wiping her eyes before leaning down and kissing your lips softly. You smiled into the kiss. You smiled so hard you couldn't even kiss properly. A fit of giggles came from the both of you. 

"Ah! Kate, stop it! Oh my god, Kate!" You screamed and giggled as she left kisses and tickles everywhere she could reach, especially in your most ticklish spots. You two couldn't be anymore happier. Kate wouldn't want to be anywhere else unless you were there, under her arms or wrapped in them. 

Oh, this life I choose.

You two were just simply two girls in love and wouldn't have it any other way. 

[cinellieroll]

☆ random obey me headcanons!

lucifer, mammon and simeon ♡

part two (asmodeus, levi, barbatos)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor, solomon)

part four (satan and diavolo)

cw: a few spoilers ahead from the main story! also one SLIGHT nsfw on simeons part???

small note: i only started writing on tumblr now so idk much on how ppl do those line thingies on the words and then it teleports to a diff post so if anyone knows how to do it please teach me! thank you :3

☆ lucifer:

- generally has a thing for turtlenecks. if you open his closet you'll see a bunch of turtlenecks in there. lucifer is a very conservative man after all.

- speaking of closet, he definetely has a color code for his clothing. blacks, reds, navy blues, anything dark

- you'll never catch him wearing anything revealing. especially his legs. man keeps em hidden.

- has a very sensitive nose. he always scolds mammon and asmo for wearing such strong cologne. he has great sense of smell in general (the bitch can smell anything) and automatically knows when trouble is near.

- EXTREMELY petty when he doesn't get his morning coffee. if he misses a day without it an extra line will appear on his forehead.

- gifts you souvenirs when he enters the human world. claims he's here for business because diavolo told him but we all know that's not the only reason why he came up there.

- he doesn't like writing with modern pens and only settles with quills. he still has his old quill from the celestial realm and keeps it hidden somewhere.

- almost gave head pats to luke once.

- his nose is FUCKING BEAUTIFUL and his side profile too. he has a nose bump for sure and i will die on this hill.

- he's not a big fan of creamy foods like carbonara or anything with cream in general. if he's eating sweets he prefers the icing to be less flavorful. what do you expect? he's a black coffee lover after all.

☆ mammon:

- room is always a fucking mess, but he cleans when he procrastinates so if you ever enter his room and he's all quiet and cleaning just don't disturb him for a while.

- buys bootleg merch for levi for no reason. one time he found this cheap ruri chan stuffy on sale for like 150 grimm and decided to buy it.

- has fucking shit hand writing bro. sometimes it's small, sometimes it's big but most of the time it's ass balls. like why does your k and h look the same?

- he cracks his knuckles and joints often and can't go without a day doing it atleast once. it's kinda hot tbh lol

- when he's in a happy mood he'll sing in like a high pitched way. idk how to explain it but i just see him doing that especially when he's on cooking duty

- sleeps really late he could almost rival levi on it. surprisingly his eyebags aren't that visible though.

- has really pretty features like long eyelashes, plump lips and visible collarbones. eat your heart out asmo xoxo

- convinced himself he'll never ever like or listen to human world songs until he heard you blasting some music in your room. he was singing that song in his head for days on end but refused to ask you what the title was

- he's a very clumsy guy and often drops small things especially during class like his ballpen, eraser or that pack of bubblegum lucifer ended up confiscating

- before you arrived, he liked to vape or juul when he's stressed or felt lonely but now he only spends his time thinking of you when he feels down.

☆ simeon:

- when he turned into a human he had thoughts of becoming a teacher in christian education but realized it's better if he owned a cafe instead.

- he sometimes joins luke during his baking lessons with barbatos even though he already knows all the steps

- occasionally invites you for sleepovers and buys card / board games for you guys to play with solomon and luke! either he or solomon are always end up being the winners everytime though

- always and i mean ALWAYS willing to teach you something when he knows it. baking, writing, recent lessons, etc

- once the exchange program ended he started writing more and more, especially poetry. and mostly wrote about you and how much he misses you <3.

- started making diary entries after the aftermath of the celestial war.

- during quiet nights, simeon often thinks what it'd be like if he was really close with the brothers.

- his eyes are lowkey creepy sometimes when he looks at you for too long. it's like he's trying to detect every sin you've committed.

- idk why i thought of this but his teeth are literally so pearly and perfect but he doesn't really smile with them in view.

- unintentionally moans sometimes. like when he sits down after a long day you just start hearing a soft "ah~" out of nowhere..

[hqbaby]

ten — jerk

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 1.8k content. profanity, mentions of reader’s not so happy life, alcohol consumption, violent confrontation, sexual content [oral m receiving]

It’s been a while since Sukuna’s been to a party. “A while,” of course means two weeks in his world, but nonetheless it seems like it’s been ages since he’s gone to one. So when Mahito tells him that there’s a party happening near his dorm tonight, he really has no choice but to go.

As soon as he gets in his car to leave, the first thing he thinks about is you. Should he text you? Ask if you want to come? But he soon remembers that you have a test the next day and he doesn’t want you to go to class hungover.

So he tells you he’s going out tonight and wishes you luck on your test, tells you that he’s just a call away if you decide you want his company. He can’t help the smile that grows on his face when you respond within seconds.

you: thanks! have fun loser <3

He tucks his phone into his pocket and drives over to Aoi’s house.

When he steps inside, the place is packed. There’s a bunch of people dancing, a few that are already slurring from all the alcohol they’ve consumed, and more than enough girls clocking him and giving him goo-goo eyes.

“Sukuna! You’re here!” Mahito comes up to him, pats his back, and hands him a beer. “Didn’t think you’d show.”

Sukuna takes a sip of his drink and frowns. “What made you think that?”

The boy just shrugs. “I heard you’re all tied down now,” he says. “I assumed your girl wouldn’t be too happy with you coming. What with your… reputation.”

There’s a strange feeling that grows in your best friend’s stomach at the thought of you being called “his girl.” Weird, he thinks, but he brushes it off. It doesn’t mean anything.

“I’m still allowed to have fun,” he says, placing a hand on Mahito’s shoulder. “I’m gonna get a stronger drink,” he lifts his beer, “this is basically juice.”

Mojito guffaws. “Alright, big guy. See you around.”

Sukuna winds his way over to the kitchen and opens the fridge to find something stronger. He isn’t necessarily proud of his alcohol tolerance—you give him shit about it all the time—but he’s never been one to enjoy a party without being at least a little tipsy.

“Looking for something?”

He closes the fridge and sees a girl watching him with a smile. She’s leaning against the counter, all dolled up in a pretty little dress with a beer in hand. He swears he’s never seen this girl before, but it doesn’t matter. If there’s one thing Sukuna does best, it’s pique the interest of strangers who just so happen to be incredibly hot.

He holds up the bottle of gin he found. “Just something to drink,” he says, cracking it open and taking a swig. He holds it out for the girl. “Want some?”

Her red lips quirk into a smile and she takes the bottle, downing quite a bit of it before she hands it back to him. They pass the bottle back and forth until Sukuna drinks the last of it, emptying the liquid into his mouth.

The girl giggles, resting her hand on Sukuna’s chest. “That’s quite the introduction.”

“What can I say?” He grins. “I make one hell of a first impression.”

Now, the alcohol does its trick. He can feel himself get a little hazy, he can feel himself loosen up. And he can feel the awfully apparent hard-on in his pants as the girl leans forward and whispers in his ear, “Wanna have some fun?”

He doesn’t even think, instinct and intoxication kicking in as he says, “Sure.”

Sukuna pulls the girl into a bathroom and she’s on him before he can even close the door. She wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him. It’s sloppy and messy, probably driven by booze, but he kisses her back.

He doesn’t know why. It’s almost second-nature to him, this whole song and dance. But as he kisses her, a part of him screams that what he’s doing is wrong. Why?

He pulls back from her and trails his lips down her neck, searching for the spot that has her moaning at his touch. It’s so predictable, so normal, the way she pants against him as his hands slide from her waist up to cup her breasts. Women are so easy, he thinks.

The girl’s hands move down his chest, past his abdomen, and land on his belt. She unbuckles it and pushes it aside, tugging his zipper down.

With a smile, she sinks to her knees and pulls his pants and underwear down. His cock springs out, already painfully hard. She bats her eyelashes at him and in a sickly sweet voice asks, “Can I suck you off?”

And Sukuna says the only thing he knows to say.

“Sure.”

The girl places her dainty fingers around his cock and pumps it a few times before she wraps her mouth around it. Sukuna groans and reaches for her head, guiding her to take his length all the way in. When she chokes a little at the sheer size of it, he closes his eyes in ecstasy.

As the girl bobs her head up and down his shaft, the warmth of her mouth pushing grunt after grunt from his lips, Sukuna’s mind starts to wander as it is wont to do at times like these. His pleasure builds with every flick of her tongue, with every touch of her hand. It’s been a while since he’s felt this good, he thinks—and then he remembers.

You.

He thinks of you padding around your apartment in that one worn-out shirt you’ve been wearing since high school. He thinks of you getting into his car after a day of class, immediately launching into a rant about your professor and your useless groupmates. He thinks of you lying in your bed beside him, that one night after you’d confided in him about your nightmares. And he thinks about how he’d looked at you then, when you were fast asleep, and he thought that you’d never looked so beautiful.

“I made a promise,” he’d said. “Let me keep it.”

His eyes fly open and he looks down at the girl with her face pressed against his groin. All at once, the pleasure fades, and all he’s left with is disgust. And guilt.

He moves the girl off of him and quickly tucks himself back into his pants.

“What’s going on?” she asks, getting up with a bewildered expression. She tries to grab him as he zips himself up and starts heading for the door. “Hey!”

He dodges her grip and shakes his head, grabbing the doorknob. “Sorry,” he says before he goes outside.

As he moves to close the door behind him, he stills.

Satoru stands in front of him, an arm wrapped around who Sukuna can only assume is his new girlfriend. He looks startled, confused. Sukuna feels his blood run cold.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” the girl demands as she comes out of the bathroom behind him.

Satoru’s eyes narrow. Realization. Anger.

Sukuna tries to get away before the situation escalates any further, but a hand grabs at the collar of his shirt before he can leave.

Your ex presses him against the wall. His eyes are dark and his other hand is balled into a fist at his side.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Satoru growls.

Sukuna pushes him off roughly and glares. “None of your fucking business.”

Satoru grabs Sukuna again and raises his fist, ready to land it on your best friend’s nose, and for a split second Sukuna has one thought on his mind: I deserve it.

“Satoru.”

Kimi’s voice is even as she calls out her boyfriend’s name from behind him. Satoru’s hand stops in the air for a moment before he lowers it and pushes Sukuna away. He backs up, but his eyes remain cold and hard as they shoot daggers at the man in front of him.

“Whatever,” he says, placing a hand on Kimi’s waist before he leads her away.

Just when he thinks it’s over, Sukuna feels a sharp sting on his cheek. A slap.

The girl whose name he doesn’t even know snarls at him. “Jerk,” she says as she gives him the finger and backs away into the crowd. “Asshole!”

Sukuna raises a hand to his cheek. He lets out a bitter chuckle. He deserves it.

You blink as Sukuna’s messages come into your phone in quick succession.

booger: going to a party

Then—

booger: gl with studying

Then—

booger: and gl with ur test

Then—

booger: just call me if u want company

You snort. Most people don’t know this, but as his best friend, you know just how soft Sukuna can be. You call him out on it most of the time, make fun of him when he’s being excessively clingy or sweet, but you have to admit that you actually like seeing this side of him.

And the fact that this side of him only seemingly comes out for you?

Yeah, you can’t deny that you like it a lot.

You reply to his message and put your phone away to confront the pages of notes on the table in front of you. With a sigh, you grab a highlighter and decide to start studying.

No one knows this, but in your senior year of high school, you’d actually considered not going to college. You were definitely expected to, what with the path you’d paved for yourself, but after years of toiling away at your academics, you considered letting yourself take a break. And what with your family fracturing in the last few months of high school… It was safe to say that ditching college wouldn’t have been what was expected, but it might have been what you needed.

Then the offer came in. A scholarship for a school far away from home, one that would handle everything from your tuition to the better-than-most apartment you now lived in. It was the best-case scenario, only made better when Sukuna rushed over the morning your results came out to say that he had gotten in too.

You have no idea what kind of luck had suddenly been granted to you, but you never questioned it. You took what you could and ran.

Maybe you never stopped running.

You lean back in your seat and stretch your back, yawning as you look down at your notes. You’re nearly done, just have to memorize a few terms before you can turn in for the night.

You glance at your phone. It’s been surprisingly quiet tonight, void of anyone asking for help with classes, projects, or life in general. You check the time. 10:27 PM—still pretty early.

You open your contacts and press on Sukuna’s to call him.

It rings.

And rings.

And rings.

And, “Leave a message or whatever.” Then, in the background, you hear your own laugh and your own voice teasing, “Are you trying to make your voicemail sound cool?”

You drop the call and frown at your phone.

Weird, you think. He’s never ignored your calls before.

notes. uh-oh 🫣

[aureatchi]

⋆ ☽˚｡ 𓂃 ࣪˖ AND THAT DAY THAT WE’LL WATCH THE DEATH OF THE SUN . . . ft. FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY

⟢ PRÉCIS. restless at an hour far too late to be awake, you take a quest to the personal library lit only by warm-toned ambient lamps and candles. however, you are greeted by one who chastises you to rest, and despite his pretty face you remain stubborn. in turn, he takes up a mission on his own; one that he alone will always win: to coax you to sleep.

◞ OR fyodor knows time is limited. if only you realized this was his labyrintian way of saying au revoir for now.

ᡴꪫ a/n. it’s always his lap. been thinking about this scenario for awhile + re-inspired by the friends who played with my hair this week hehe. it makes me feel so sleepy. started to cope with ch113. :’) i hope this is decent ᡣ𐭩

ᡴꪫ info. fem!reader. fluff; sweetly suggestive in one part…and then hit with a train of angst; i warned u. soft fyodor. comfort/hurt ↻. religious imagery. it’s u trying to get him to sleep too. both poetic and shakespeare ramblings. bsd manga chapter 113 + s5 finale spoilers. russian may be incorrect. ﾉ wc. 3.1k+

“Is there anything you find more powerful than manipulation?” 

Seated on the armchair across from yours, the ravenette took a sip of tea from his mug before setting it down. A bantering parley had taken place in between you two, filled with giggles and smiles, but in a moment without thought, you had brought up a more serious topic. 

“Actually, yes,” he responded. 

“A woman’s intuition.” You didn’t miss how his gaze slightly lowered. “The woman’s gut feeling is superior. If a man were to try manipulating her, she would know. No matter how naïve she was, the body would give her a single signal that could unravel his entire disposition at the fingertips.” 

You discreetly smiled, looking down at the mug. You knew Fyodor was referring to his experience with you. At one point in time, he tried to finesse you in schemes of calamity. But in response, you ruined him—he would dare not admit out loud that you had forcefully taken whatever mess his heart was and sewed it back together with the strings of your own soul. You did so without ever realizing either. After so many years on this earth, even he did not know how to mend himself. 

Now, he could only look at you as being the single thing that didn’t go wrong in the wasteland of the world. The ravenette almost considered you not of the world—you were as divine as the angels, after all. Perhaps it was his excuse to add along another duty the Father had commissioned to him—Fyodor would assure your safety and happiness through the rest of time—even once he got his hands on that book. 

Because if not plans that surged through his mind, it was his most cherished memories of you. 

…

Even though the room wasn’t too hot and the bed wasn’t uncomfortable, you could not go to sleep. You had tried counting sheep in your head for hours, but you still ended up awake well past midnight and had enough sheep for dozens of herds. 

You turned over in annoyance before you finally sat up. You didn’t understand why you felt such unease—maybe you drank your coffee too late in the day. A bad decision at that. 

You tapped the other side of the bed for a final check. Empty. Fyodor was still up. You would visit him in the office later, but for now, you’d give him the privilege of being unbothered. You decided on another place to visit—somewhere that would calm you down so perhaps you could finally catch slumber. 

The personal library. 

It was the coziest place, especially during the late hours of the evening, where the lights were warm and dim, not too hard on the eyes. Where the shelves were packed with literature and knowledge permeated the room with its philosophy. Fyodor annotated everything—so most books were scribbled in almost illegible cursive Russian. You always told yourself if you didn’t start to learn his lingo, you would be locked away from the library’s secrets forever. 

You tiptoed down the hallway until you reached the door at the end. You were thinking of picking up one of William Shakespeare’s tragedies and reading until either you fell asleep or the sun rose. You prayed it wasn’t the latter—though restless, you were exhausted too. And you didn’t want to suffer the consequences the next day. 

However, you were surprised to see the door already narrowly open. The lights were on and the candles were lit, too—was Fyodor not in his office? He seldom worked anywhere else and would always go to you as soon as he finished. 

You peeked through the slight crack in the door. He was indeed there—your lover’s back turned towards you, capturing all his charming enigma. How the man carried himself with the poise and elegance of a white dove, despite starting wars among nations. His mouth spoke of divinity while he ravaged the harmony of life with his hands. It was fitting; Fyodor was a juxtaposition in himself—you knew this, and so did he. 

“You can come in.” A second of pure silence passed before you opened the door to step inside. Not even a single noise was made, and yet, he recognized your presence. 

Almost shyly, you shuffled towards him. You did not plan for Fyodor to catch you—you were still in between deciding whether going inside was worth his lecture. 

Because although the handsome workaholic stayed up until absurd hours of the night, he did not want you following his ways. 

You circled the lounging area until you were in front of him, who closed the journal he was writing in. 

“Lyubov, why are you still awake?” he asked. 

Usually, you only stayed up out of anticipation in waiting for his return—whether from a mission or just to the bed. You were so stubborn that Fyodor would actually halt his work for a few days after being gone for awhile to sleep with you so that he was sure you were resting properly.

It was different this time. He had been home for the whole month, and despite being in his office for the majority of this week, you didn’t have any problem with going to bed without him until now. 

You shrugged with a quiet, “I’m not sure.” You eyed the unfamiliar journal. “Are you still working?” 

“Sort of,” Fyodor replied. “Would you like some chamomile tea? That will help.” 

You shook your head. “What do you mean ‘sort of?’ Last time I checked, you were either working or not.” 

“It’s not any more important than addressing the current problem at hand,” he calmly dejected the topic, leaving you confused. 

“What’s the current problem?” 

“You’re awake. You shouldn’t be at this hour.” 

“Well, now that I’ve found you here, I don’t think I can return to bed unless you come with me.” You dramatically yawned before stepping closer to him.

“Let’s go sleep, Fedya.” You tried dragging him up by the arm, but he stayed sat on the armchair, much to your disdain. 

“I cannot, I’m not done yet,” Fyodor replied. As you froze, he took your hand in his and brought you to his lap. 

“However, you must sleep.” He let you shift so that you were comfortable. “You came here to read?” 

“Yeah,” you replied as he handed you a book. What a mind reader Fyodor was—you were presented with The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. It would be the perfect reread. 

“Why this play?” you tested. 

“The pile of books you never put back on the shelves over there shows you’ve been reading a lot of tragedies lately,” he nodded towards the stack of books you read this week. “I thought you’d probably be in the mood for one by none other than the master of catastrophe.

“Plus, it’s fitting for you, too,” he added, voice a bit lower as he fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. “You’re so dramatic.” 

“Hey!” You pouted, moving away from him, pretending you were insulted. Though you knew too that further proved his point. 

“Maybe we should act it out,” you joked as you scanned through the pages to find a poem you were familiar with. “Act two, scene two.” 

“Hamlet’s letter to Ophelia,” Fyodor recalled. 

“Doubt thou the stars are fire;

“doubt that the sun doth move; 

“doubt truth to be a liar; 

“but never doubt I love.” 

“Dlya neye, v iskrennosti,” you squinted, reading the little note by the quote you did not understand. The Russian laughed at your terrible pronunciation. 

“Some scholars say that Hamlet used his words toward Ophelia as a manipulation tactic,” he stated. “He had a larger strategy at hand, and he rarely mentioned her unless she was on stage, with the exception of her death. If he harbored such a profound love for her, would Shakespeare not make it more direct? What do you think?” 

You contemplated for a few seconds, eyes drifting amongst the shelves of books as you felt your lover behind you gently run his fingers through your hair. 

“I think Shakespeare didn’t give us clarity for a reason. I’d like to believe Hamlet did love Ophelia. The story does not revolve around romance, after all—it revolves around revenge. A man with ambitious plans would not have love at the forefront of his head. Or, he wouldn’t speak aloud about it, at the least. Perhaps he was more reserved about that aspect of his life, too—he could’ve been shy to speak about it in front of all aristocracy—like you, for example.”

You giggled with a shrug, expressing your last phrase as lighthearted, but you still earned a slight frown from him. It was amusing that the nationwide terrorist was timid in everything concerning his love life. 

“Obviously, it could be taken as manipulation, too,” you continued. “But again, it’s not stated upfront for a reason. Shakespeare mirrors the complexities of a person in real life. You never quite know the truth of other people, no matter how much you think you know them.” 

Fyodor nodded, satisfied with your interpretation. “I wholly agree. It is why Shakespeare is enticing to many—he creates characters that simulate life’s universal themes and relatable human emotions when reacting to those situations. I only disagree with one point you made.” 

“Which one? You being shy?” you asked. He shook his head with a smile. 

“Perhaps I will reward you with that knowledge if you sleep.” He chuckled when you groaned in disappointment. 

“How about you just do your work while I read? Then, when you finish, we can leave together.” 

“If it were that easy. You’re a distraction, milaya.” 

You rolled your eyes. “No, I promise! I originally came here to read anyway—I won’t distract you this time.” You moved to one side of Fyodor’s lap so he would have space to do what he wanted. 

He did not answer you, instead making a quiet “tsk” when his fingers caught on a tangle in your hair. Fyodor worked to gently separate the knot. The terrorist was a perfectionist, but the mindset further stemmed past reaching twisted goals to create a world without flaws. Three spoons of jam in his tea, faint scratches on a deck of cards, and ensuring he had the satisfaction of reaching the ends of your hair with his fingertips were a few details he keenly paid mind to. 

You took his silence as a comply, and started to play out the tragedy of the Danish prince in your head while your lover brushed through your locks. Eventually, he picked his journal back up and continued to write information you paid no mind to.

…

You did not know how much time passed before you felt your eyes grow heavy. The faint ticks of the clock on the wall combined with the warm candlelight’s glow drew you to slumber. You closed Hamlet and shifted positions until you ended up straddling Fyodor. You buried your face in the crook of his neck until you could see nothing but dark. 

“Sonnyy?” 

He started stroking his fingers through your hair again, relaxing you even more. 

“Lublu tebya, kak angel boga, kak roso lyubit solovey. S toboy vremya ostanavlivaetsya, yi ya zhivu lish mgnoveniam ryadom s toboy.” 

However, the sounds of seconds passing by and intimate lighting adorning the room could not compare to the persuasion of your lover’s voice in his mother tongue. Foreign words spilled from his lips as rich as velvet, as soothing as a lullaby. If his voice, in general could put you in a trance, here he harbored the garden serpent’s master of temptation itself. Even if you did not understand him. Worst of all, he knew this. You had fallen into his trap long ago.

“Ya boudou skucha—what are you doing?” 

You were drowsily planting kisses on his neck. You stopped once the room became silent and looked up, catching his half-lidded amethyst gaze. The conjurer’s expression was for once softened—or perhaps it had been the entire time you were with him. It was a gift only you were blessed with. 

You smiled, a tad smugness in your look, before sitting up and giving him a shy peck on his lips. 

For a few seconds, you were both frosted in that moment of time—his hands wrapped around your waist, massaging circles onto your skin under your shirt as you straddled his own, your eyes fixated on his almost surprised, slightly flustered violet stare. The candles illuminated the room in such a way that made you think it was really only you two who existed in the world—your two souls someplace faraway where nothing else mattered but the sounds of your heartbeats and what you would do next after his mouth slightly parted. You were the most beautiful thing Fyodor had laid eyes on, throughout eras of people. 

You kissed him for the first time that night, and the ravenette kissed you back. It escalated to become sloppy—you were both too exhausted to care whether your lips were on his or if they instead trailed down to trace his jawline as sharp as those of the greek gods. Or when you were back on your lover’s neck—however, this time almost sucking, mesmerized by how easily you could bruise him. You did not need to wear lipstick to create deep red marks on Fyodor’s pale skin. 

“I told you that you’d end up being a distraction.” 

You shivered at cold fingertips dancing across your lower abdomen, though they were still quite far from anywhere you wished. You winced when Fyodor bounced you up in order to fix your position, but it offered a different effect. 

“Careful,” he warned. “That spot is visible to others.” 

Being the leader of the Rats in the House of the Dead and member of organization Decay of Angels placed the Russian at a high status in the underground world. He always restricted the places you could leave visible traces of affection on him whenever he had a new operation in front of him—Fyodor was one to uphold modesty. 

You sighed softly before disconnecting your mouth from his neck, only to unbutton the top half of his shirt. 

Like his hands, the demon’s heart was cold. He bore at least some sense of insensitivity to death—he had to; granting silence was part of his duty. However, something about you ignited a fire in him out of nothing, out of no help amidst ice—you were not given a flame nor torch to aid you.

If he was the one to destroy the world to pay the price of ridding sin, you were the one who rebuilt creation from the ground and up. You were unfazed by the city ruins; you were unfazed by Fyodor Dostoevsky, the man most feared in the world. A duality: to them, his hands soaked in crimson blood, but to you, they clasped around yours in adoration.

And since he’d met you, his heart was filled with the foreign warmth of love. Accompanied were trust, vulnerability, and your sweet, honey-like kisses that you littered all over his broad shoulders and chest, because he deserved love everywhere. 

He whispered against your ear, promising he would indulge you more another day, when you weren’t so sleepy. When both he and the moon had a little more time in the sky, was what he didn’t say. At the same time, he took a free hand to slowly guide your eyes to close, hovering barely above your eyelashes. 

You complied, with no more complaints, as he kissed you on the forehead. 

…

As Fyodor carried you down the hallway to the bedroom bridal-style about half an hour later, you dozed into dazy consciousness once again. 

“You have…another mission, hm?” you whispered, recalling the preceding hints he had given you. 

“Yes,” he quietly replied, walking into the dark bedroom. He tucked you under the covers before getting in right beside you. 

“Truly, why were you in the library?” you asked, getting out your final curiosity before you fell back to dream. 

“I did have a ‘sort-of’ job,” Fyodor replied. “Taking care of you. I was aware you’d show up.”  

“Please stay safe, Fedya.”

…

You knew something was off with the thunderstorm that came several weeks later. A vampire apocalypse—however fictitious that sounded—was happening back in Japan, but Fyodor kept you overseas at where you two stayed before departing. 

You didn’t ever touch his plans, but your mind finally processed how every event leading up until now seemed so wrong. The month-long stay—Fyodor had never done that before. The week you decided to read tragedies—you felt one even worse than those acted out in the theatre was coming. That night you stayed up—your gut was already screaming that he was about to depart again. 

And how this time would be different than before. Your intuition had warned you, yet you still fell asleep and let him leave. You stood before the journal the conjurer made sure caught your eye that night. With shaky hands and heavy rain beating down on the windows, you flipped through the pages. Confusion and tears formed in your eyes at the vague implication of what was written. 

Do not worry yourself with the death of all things that are seen and unseen by you. It is not an end, but the start of all things that are left to do. 

Rodnaya, you asked what I did not agree with concerning your thoughts about Hamlet loving Ophelia. Have you ever considered a man having both love and ideals at the forefront of his mind? Isn’t love a dream itself? 

…

Fyodor swore this when he judged how all could go wrong in the next step of his plan. Prior to meeting you, the calculating, confident smirk he always had on his face was authentic, and he simply assumed he would never fall to a mistake. 

But now the plans were adjusted to work around you; the schemes all ended to benefit you, too. If he misjudged something, not only would it fail the perfect world God deemed it to be, but it would also affect you through and through. 

Perhaps that was why he only almost saw you as an angel no matter how much you resembled one—no, you were far more glorious than one. You were human—so human that instead of looking down at him from above, you came down onto tainted soil and blessed him with a piece of heaven. Real empathy that now made him think of you as he sat with a rod pierced through his torso in the escape helicopter, doomed to death. 

You truly did ruin him. 

…

“Is there anything you find more powerful than manipulation?” 

And Sigma wondered how such a man so immoral and cruel actually loved someone else. As he searched through the demon's memories, he realized he must go much further back in time to find any helpful information for the brunette ability-nullifier who assigned him. 

Because if it was not anything relating to his plans that showed up through his search, it was every memory of you.

translations: (please pardon me if they’re bad, :’) correct me if you are fluent and would like to!)

dlya neye, v iskrennost : for her, in sincerity

sonnyy : sleepy

lublu tebya, kak angel boga, kak roso lyubit solovey. : i love you like an angel loves God, like a nightingale loves a dew.

s toboy vremya ostanavlivaetsya, yi ya zhivu lish mgnoveniam ryadom s toboy. : with you, time stops, and i live only for moments next to you.

ya boudou skucha[t po tebe] : i will miss you.

i heard if you rb, fyodor will come back to life. :’) reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most. <3

someone should’ve warned me about hozier. only started listening to him last month and i…can’t stop.

© 2024 AUREATCHI. no reposts or translations. do not steal. support banner + gradient line by benkeibear. animated line by benkeibear. manga header mine.

[rafesangelita]

hii again ik i just sent one but what about rafey manhandling you out of a party when you get into an argument w some girl who was like trying to get all over him (he was clearly not into it and was telling her he had a girl) and then him eating her pussy in bed that night saying that shes the only one he wants cause he loves her and her pretty pussy so much -👛

warnings: arguing, oral (f receiving)

you were sitting next to rafe when the broad stumbled over to him, so high out of her mind that she didn’t notice your head resting on his shoulder. “hey rafeee!” your eyes shot to the source of the voice, your boyfriend immediately glancing over at you. “you got a line for me?” she smiled, tripping over her heels before falling right into his lap. “yo, come on!” he pushed her, “watch the fuck out, i got all this shit out right here.” you glared at her, annoyed with the way she was looking at your boyfriend.

“i don’t have any money on me, but i could pay you with something else..” rafe’s lip curled in disgust, physically cringing at her while you fought the urge to drag her out of the house by her hair. “go be a mess somewhere else, i got a girl.” rafe pulled you closer to his side, her eyes finally landing you. “all lines are fifty dollars, babe. sorry, no free plays around here!” you flashed her a smile, running your hand across rafe’s chest, “this is your girl? my god, i’d think you have higher standards, ray.. guess not.” you took a moment to examine her.

“then what does that make you?” you stood up. “the whole world could see where your hair extensions start, your lashes are hanging on by a thread, you desperately need a nail fill, and you could barely walk in those things called heels.. you’re as low as they come.” rafe was already packing his stuff, knowing how this would end if you two didn’t leave right now. surrounding partygoers were now looking at you two, your boyfriend tugging on one of the belt loops of your skirt. “my daddy is chief police, i’d watch out if i were you. i could shut your whole operation down.” at that, rafe cursed under his breath, dragging you away before anything could escalate.

“do it then! and make sure you tell him how you’re an easy coke whore while you’re at it!” rafe picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder while you tried to squirm out of his grip. “put me down!” it wasn’t until he made it to the truck that he placed you in the passenger seat, your hands shoving him away when he tried to talk to you. he groaned, making his way to the driver’s side. “you should’ve defended me.” rafe looked over at you with wide eyes. “i should’ve defended you? against what? the idiot that couldn’t tell left from right?” he laughed.

“it’s not funny.” you crossed your arms over your chest, scooting as close to the door as you could. “are you seriously mad at me right now?” you swatted his hand away when he reached over, making him shake his head. “just wait till we get home.” you rolled your eyes, ignoring him for the rest of the ride. you were quick to get off the truck once he pulled in, slamming the door shut as you ran inside. rafe scoffed, “well that was a little dramatic.” he went up upstairs, groaning in frustration when the door knob to his bedroom didn’t budge. “you can’t lock me out of my own space!” you were naked, about to step into the shower before you shouted, “i just did!”

you took your time under the hot water, washing off all of the irritation and anger from tonight. you knew rafe did everything he could to establish himself as unavailable and uninterested to that girl, he even pushed her for crying out loud. the guilt for being mad at him was starting to seep through, making you open the bedroom door after you got out of the shower. once you changed into a pair of his boxers and a baby tee, you climbed underneath the sheets, waiting to hear his footsteps walk in. eventually he did, sitting at the edge of the bed.

“i’m sorry,” you apologized, “i just get so mad when someone thinks they can just flirt their way into getting your attention.” he turned, rubbing your leg through the comforter. “no one, except you, has my attention, y/n. nothing else matters to me.” he uncovered you, fingers toying with the waistband of your, well his, bottoms. you sighed, pulling him to your chest where you cradled his head. “i promise i won’t be mad at you when it comes to other girls. i trust you.” he kissed you before pulling away, sliding his boxers down your legs.

you let him have his way with you, a gasp leaving your lips when he pulled your thighs on top of his shoulders. “you never have to worry about anyone else, no one even compares.” rafe left wet kisses on your folds, your back arching off the bed when his tongue met your clit. “i’ve never met someone so beautiful, ‘never seen a pussy this pretty.” he spread you apart with his thumbs, marveling at the sight of you. “you’re the only girl i need, ‘the only one for me.” you knew rafe had a mean head game, but one hour later and he was still making you cum until tears rolled down your cheeks. “please! it’s too much, rafe,” you sobbed, your body on fire as your legs trembled.

he finally pulled away, his lips shining with your slick. “i love you.” he rubbed circles into your skin. rafe waited until you were able to meet his eyes, your chest falling and rising with each breath. “i love you, too.” you blinked slowly.

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Steve’s Competency Kink

Thirsty Thursday - Steve’s Competency Kink

steddie, omegaverse, canon compliant

Steve isn’t expecting it, having spent so much of the past few days fighting a drop with how much stress his pack is under.

His desire to protect Max would be making it hard enough without the rest of the bullshit going on.

But the rest is going on, and he knows he’s been leaning too hard on Robin and the safety of her herbal scent. Leaning too hard on the pups, taking comfort in caring for them.

It should all be too much for any of them, really. He can smell it all the time: stress and fear and pain. Knows he’s giving off just as much of the same, no matter how much he works to exude calm and safety for the pack.

But here he is, watching Eddie Munson hotwire an RV and getting wet enough that he knows the alphas can smell it.

They must be able to, with how sticky he already feels. He’ll have to peel his underwear off when he finally has a chance, a mess of slick at his crotch.

Robin gives him a very confused look, and Nancy is fortunately focused on wrangling the pups. Eddie has a pair of pliers held in his mouth, the metal hopefully impeding his sense of smell, at least for now.

But Steve knows he’s too close.

It’s only a matter of time before Eddie picks up on his scent, on the arousal in it.

And it shouldn’t be hot! Nothing about the situation should remotely turn him on!

Steve presses his thighs together, grimaces, and tries his hardest to push down his desire to moan.

It’s just watching Eddie cut and strip the wires, keeping up his conversation with Robin, every movement sure… He knows what he’s doing. It may be highly suspect, but it’s a skill. Another way Eddie is good with his hands, and it makes Steve imagine those hands touching him.

Steve is shocked out of his daydream by Eddie turning to him. The smarmy, “Harrington’s got her. Don’t ya, big boy,” making him blush as he scrambles into the seat, his brain kicking into gear as they steal the RV.

They’ve made it decently down the road when Eddie leans over Steve’s shoulder and says, “Sorry for dropping the driving on you like that, what with involving you in the actual crime and all.”

“What?” Steve’s still having trouble focusing beyond driving and Eddie’s warm scent.

“Like, everyone else is just an accessory to theft, but if we get busted, it’s you and me—grand theft auto.”

Steve shrugs. “Price of saving the world, I guess.”

“Well, Thanks for being cool about it. Most people get all weird about the shit my old man taught me.”

Steve shrugs again, glances up into the rearview mirror to look Eddie in the eye. “Skill’s a skill, and you’re fucking skilled.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah…” He swallows, feels the words ready to tumble out of his mouth and figures, fuck it, they might be dead by morning. “It was hot.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks again, voice so soft now.

“Really hot.”

His hand reaches forward, grips Steve’s shoulder. “Pretty much everything you do is hot.”

“Shut up.”

“If it weren’t for the fact I’m a total chickenshit, I’d have kissed you after you bit apart that bat.”

“Gross, Eddie! I had blood in my mouth! Monster blood!” Steve hisses.

“And it was fucking hot!”

“Whatever.” But Steve is smiling.

When he glances at Eddie in the rearview again, he’s smiling, too.

Camping in the meadow and prepping doesn’t give them much time, but Eddie and Steve still find a minute to meet up in the bathroom.

Eddie washes his hands, then he shows Steve what else his clever fingers can do.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Arsenal’s Number 6

Leah Williamson x Reader, Part 3 of Fore! (double update today, wow)

Part 1 | Part 2

Leah’s ACL has healed and it’s her first game back. (let us pretend she’s back, eh?)

word count : 2k

warnings : fluff with smut at the end.

“Leah you’re going to be late!”

“I know! Just can’t fucking find my fucking–oh there it is.”

You’re holding up her kit bag, having had to put it away yesterday since she dumped it at the front door and didn’t clean it. You had cleared out her smelly training kit and cleaned her shoes, dusting out the grass at the bottom and replenishing it with all her essentials. It was where it went; in the cupboard by the door but she refused to put it in there so she never knew where it was when you picked up after her.

“I don’t know what I’d do without ya, pretty girl.”

“You’d be a mess, baby. A hot, fucking, mess. Come on, I’ll drop you off.”

//

“Your missus coming to the game Sunday?” asked McCabe in the changing room. They were packing up to go home, Jonas had let the girls know that the trainers had cleared Leah for her first game back since her ACL on Sunday against Brighton. Screams and cheers filled the room, all the girls glad to have Leah back on the pitch. She hadn’t stopped smiling, glad to finally be back where she belongs. But Katie’s question makes her smile fall.

“She’s probably going to be busy. She has students.”

“Bullshit Leah, Y/N knows how much this means to you.”

“I’ll maybe only be playing a couple minutes, there’s no point.”

“Leah, what’s this about?”

“Can we just drop it, please?”

Everyone leaves her alone at her request, squeezing her shoulder as they filter out. She had been waiting for this day to come and now that it’s here she’s terrified. Doubt fills her mind as she fears that she will make mistakes and cost the team. She’s scared that once she’s back she won’t be the same as she was before. She’s scared that Arsenal won’t want her if she isn’t back to 100% fitness. She’s scared that you’ll be disappointed and leave. You can’t leave. It would kill her more than never playing football again. She starts to hyperventilate, the room spinning as she tries to catch her breath. She’s desperately clutching her chest when she feels familiar hands grab hers and pull her into a firm chest. She’s shaking, the smell of you filling her nostrils.

“Easy baby, it’s okay. You’re safe, Leah. It’s just me, I’ve got you.”

It takes a few more minutes for her breathing to regulate and for her to stop shaking. You wipe her tears away and hold her face. You smile softly and kiss her, which makes her melt into your touch. Fresh tears prickle at her eyes as you pull her to sit in your lap.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

She takes a while to answer you, trying her best to calm herself. You rub her back and don’t rush her, softly cooing at her as she is finally able to catch her breath.

“Please don’t leave me.” She says quietly, looking up at you with sad eyes. You cup her cheeks and look down at her, face full of concern.

“What’s given you that idea, darling?” you ask her, wiping her tears away. She’s puffy and has snot running down her face, yet you can’t find a flaw on her face.

“They cleared me to play on Sunday.”

“That’s great news, love. What’s making you upset then?”

“I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Oh Leah, even if you didn’t play I would be so proud of you.”

“You’re too important to me to be a disappointment.”

“I will be proud of you no matter what. That’s my job. Other than being the world’s best girlfriend. You’re my world in this equation, which makes me the best girlfriend. Who’s the real winner here?”

“Me, obviously.”

“There’s my cheeky girl, I’ve missed her.”

“I love you.”

It takes you by surprise, the love in her eyes is almost replaced with pain till you grab her face and kiss her searingly.

“I love you too, Leah.”

//

You’re making dinner, a sad, bland chicken burger for Leah (she drools which is unbelievable) and a nice steak for yourself. She asked for a couple bites of your steak which you feed her but politely decline a bite of her chicken burger (honestly, not even a little spice, Lee?) 

You’re both sharing a bottle of wine with an Arsenal game on the tv when Leah suddenly muted the tv. She never missed one moment of a game and it took you by surprise.

“You can say no.”

“You really need to stop saying that. Anything you want I will make happen baby.”

“I-I want you there on Sunday.”

“I was going to be.”

“No, not as another face in the crowd. As in like there in the family section with a family pass around your neck. With my name on your back.”

“Nothing would make me happier. Well, maybe marrying you could come close second, we’ll see.”

You laugh at your own joke and miss the look or pure adoration on Leah’s face. She wants to make that happen, she knew in that moment that she was marrying you one day.

//

“Subbing in for the first time since April, Arsenal’s Number 6, Leah Williamson!” you heard the announcer say. There was only 5 minutes left in the game but proud didn’t even begin to express how you were feeling. Seeing her waiting by the sidelines, she caught your eye as you were sat in the family section with Amanda. “I love you,” you mouthed as she did the same at the same time. You had tears in your eyes, watching her smiling, so happy to be back on the pitch. She’s getting a standing ovation, the gooners happy to have their beloved captain back.

It was just a little tester of her headspace, gauging her readiness to be back on the pitch. She played flawlessly; she was back to being a force to be reckoned with. When the final whistle blew, Arsenal walked away with a win (a/n MANIFESTING), the girls from both teams congratulating her on her return. She was positively buzzing, her cheeks hurting from smiling so much.

You were nervously waiting in the changing room for her, Amanda wanting to see her on the pitch instead. She finally walked in, still grinning as wide as she could. She ran over to you, hugging you and spinning you around.

“You did it baby!”

“All thanks to you, pretty girl.”

You kissed her hard, the whole room cheering and teasing the both of you. You didn’t care, the both of you in a world or your own. She took a shower and got changed before you walked out to her car, hand in hand swinging happily. The whole drive home was filled with comfortable silence; you held her hand that was in your lap and softly rubbed her arm. She leaned over and kissed you at traffic lights, hand rubbing your thigh teasingly. You knew what she was insinuating and gave into her.

“You did so well baby, I’m so proud of you.”

“You look so hot with my name on your back.”

“Mrs. Y/N Williamson does have a nice ring to it.”

“We’re making that happen one day, pretty girl. Right now, I want to ravish you.”

//

You stumbled into the house, hands pulling clothes off each other impatiently. Riley was confused but totally stole Leah’s training shirt to bite on. You didn’t care, all you could think about was Leah. She picked you up like you weighed nothing, walking to your bedroom and locking the door. She threw you onto the bed, eyes dark with desire. Her lips were on yours instantly, kissing you dizzying hard. She crawled onto the bed slowly, pinning your arms above your head as she sucked noisily at your neck. You whined, core aching for her touch.

She ripped your undergarments off, mouth latching onto your breast. She bit and sucked, a growl leaving the back of her throat. She switched breasts, hands kneading them hard. You cried out in pain and pleasure, her grunts becoming more and more impatient sounding. “Fuck, turn over.” You obey her, arching your back more as she spanks your ass. She straddles your thighs, biting all over your back and taking off the rest of her clothes. She hisses when her clit grazes your thigh, grabbing your ass and spreading it roughly. She groans, leaning in and eating you out. You squeal and whine, hand reaching back to cradle her head the best you can. She man-handles you to perch your ass up, burying her face between your legs to lick and suck at you the best she can. She growls into your folds, slurping your sweet nectar like a hungry bear. You can only cry out her name and grip the sheets, her mouth assaulting you exactly how you like.

She suddenly stops and lays back, legs opening for you. “Come here,” she says with authority and you swoon at her demanding tone. You make no protest, settling yourself between her legs and wait for further instruction. “Make me cum,” she says with that same force, you can only oblige and lean in to slurp at her soaking folds.

The tone of authority in her voice and that signature focused face was more than enough to make your pussy throb with a need like no other. You obediently slurp and suckle on her folds, her hands making a home in your hair as she practically rode your face. You whine and slip your tongue into her, alongside two fingers. She yelps and moans your name, begging you for release. It only makes you work harder, tongue-fucking her as your nose buries itself in her clit. She screams your name and cums, legs trembling so violently. She smiles dopily, pulling you up and kissing you hard. You taste each other on your lips, both moaning into each other’s mouths.

“Want the strap, pretty girl?”

“Fuck yes, Leah.”

“Tell me what you want, babygirl.”

“Want you to fuck me, Leah. Please.”

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? You gonna be a good girl for me, Y/N?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl.”

“On all fours.”

You listen, pulling yourself up into that position. She pulls out the strap and puts it on, lubing it up a little before getting back on the bed behind you. She lines herself up and pushes in slowly, feeling resistance she kisses down your back, spanking your ass a few times before thrusting shallowly. You open up for her, moaning her name loudly as she now begins to really pound into you. Her hands have an iron grip on your hips, pulling you back onto her cock. She moans like she can feel it, loving the look of your ass slapping against her hips.

“Fuck, r-right there Leah!”

“Yeah? You want my cock right there, darling?”

“Y-Yes! Fuck, please!”

She pounds into you harder, angling her hips up to hit your spot. She spanks your ass a few more times before you curse and beg for her to let you cum.

“Please Leah!”

“Come on my cock baby, there’s a good girl.”

You come hard, legs trembling and chest heaving. She fucks you through it, lips muttering profanities at you as you come down from your high. She pulls out and kisses you, taking off the strap and maneuvering you into her arms.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Thank you for coming out to watch me today.”

“I don’t think I’ll be missing a game anytime soon, Lee.”

[anton-luvr]

hiii👋 could you do riize reaction to you taking care of them please?

# WHEN YOU TAKE CARE OF THEM ; 7riize.

⚝ bf!riize x gn!reader | fluff | sick bf au ⚝ note ; thanks for requesting anon! hope u like it :]

# SHOTARO. - being sick has drained out pretty much all of his energy, but having you taking care of him keeps his spirits high. when you're not busy getting him more water to drink or to change the ice pack on his hot forehead, you're cracking jokes and telling him silly stories. if it weren't for you, he wouldn't be able to recover as fast he does.

# EUNSEOK. - as someone who's always been used to doing things and keeping things to himself, he's grateful you're here for him this time. he takes each bowl of hot, homecooked meal from you with open hands, looks up at you with eyes full of love and gratitude when you run a damp cloth over his forehead to cool down, and he kisses your hands softly when you check up on him hourly.

# SUNGCHAN. - he falls in love with you even more. the love you show through taking care of him even though he's a coughing mess is sweeter than any gift could ever show. and the sincerity and concern that shines in your eyes as you dote over him makes his heart swell, so grateful that he has you in his life.

# WONBIN. - he can't help but feel like the luckiest man in the world. like you're taking care of him??? voluntarily???? while he's sick, looks terrible, and throwing up almost every thirty minutes????????? when you rub his back and tuck his hair behind his ear while he throws up, he knows right then and there it's true love. smothers you with thank you kisses once he recovers.

# SEUNGHAN. - he feels bad. he's already feeling terrible with his burning fever, and the last thing he'd want is for you to fall sick too. but you reassure him it won't happen, and after multiple convincings, he finally lets you take care of him. and he's really glad once he does, because he knows he wouldn't be able to do anything in his current condition. feels so much more appreciative of you and loves you even more.

# SOHEE. - he's so touched :( like eunseok, he's used to handling things on his own. so to have you take care of him this time when he's sick warms up his heart and almost brings tears to his eyes. he's so grateful for you, making sure you know just that with his repeated 'thank you' and 'i love you'.

# ANTON. - this boy almost loses his mind. he doesn't feel worthy of being taken care of with so much love and care, but to have you do just that while he's sick changes the way he looks at himself. he also hates taking medicine pills, but with you cheering him on and holding onto his hand in support, he manages to do it. his quick recovery is all thanks to you.

© anton-luvr, 2023.

taglist: @wonbons @mxlly143 @keehobaldboy @shawyle @yenart

[glamourscat]

SWEET LIKE CINNAMON | Ryō Sakurai dating HCS

I’m sorry but dating Ryo Sakurai?!?! sjdjfowowm

He would be THE CUTESTTT. The most adorable BOYFRIEND. Just, he is so precious

Canonically speaking, he is a sensitive and kind guy. Not only he is constantly apologetic but is easy to fluster

He would blush so hard every time you flirt or compliment him

Literally the audio “oh? I am pretty boy? Pretty?” Cue to him being an awkward, flustered mess while inside he is giggling and kicking his feet 

I can see him with someone who’s just as gentle as him, but that can also bring him out of his shell. Not an extrovert, but those types of introverts who can become extroverts with the right people you know? 

Someone who will show him it’s ok to stand up for yourself. Maybe, even someone who’s extremely confident in themselves and will not take shit from anyone. He would find that so hot 

Also, you bet he will be so supportive of you. He is such a supportive teammate, I can’t imagine him being any less with his partner. Coming to see you at your events. Wanna change jobs? Hell yeah, he is right with ya. Wanna travel the world? He has already packed a bag

However, he also has another side. The more competitive, arrogant if not prideful side, when he knows he is right. When he knows he will win. I see this coming out more when he is jealous. He won’t necessarily sulk, but he will be perhaps overconfident for some. “Why would I be jealous? I mean, look at them and look at me? Why would my partner leave me for that?”

His life motto is literally "Don’t do bad things to people that have been done to you"

One of his hobbies is drawing manga. I like to think some of his favourite subjects in school was art and literature. He would draw his s/o 100% From little sketches from before you two got together to proper artwork gifted to you as an anniversary present once together

His type is literally “a drifter girl”.  Meaning he is attracted to a girl who is free-spirited, independent and doesn’t settle in one place for long

Maybe someone who often moves around and is not tied down by commitments or routines. Someone who doesn’t necessarily fit the societal standard. A spontaneous, adventurous and a tad mysterious soul

I can see him with a foreigner. Someone who is from another culture, someone that brings another side to the equation. Travelling with him around the world is truly something not too far fetched. He would be so down

Lastly, he is very good at cooking. Which I feel is one of his love languages. Acts of service/cooking and quality time maybe sprinkled with some words of affirmation— but more for him to receive honestly

Still, he would most definitely try out new recipes and have you there to try them. Or even cook bentos for you too! 

[ladykailitha]

Everything I Ever Wanted Part 1/4

The much anticipated sequel for "Not All That Glitters is Gold" the omegaverse epic that I recently wrapped up. The first chapter is here as I highly recommend you read it first.

Each chapter is based on something Steve wanted from the first story. Being a top omega escort and retiring at the top of his game. Having alpha health be brought to the forefront and actually studied. Being married and bonded. And finally having children of his own.

Just a few notes here: This not to say that surrogacy or adopt is lesser or not as important as biological birth. Because it absolutely isn't. This is about Steve being told he was only good for one thing and to learn his worth was far greater than anyone imagined.

This story is mature. There are sex scenes in here as well as full nudity, but also the first chapter has some awful pretty non-binary and sex worker prejudices that if you feel like you can't handle, don't read.

Each chapter is however long it took me to fill out that part. So some chapters are shorter than others, some times by almost 1000 words.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoyed the first one!

****

Steve had finished packing up the last of his stuff. Chrissy would be moving in next week and fill the suite with everything that made her unique.

But as sad as Steve was to be leaving, he knew it was time. Twelve years as one of the best escorts Starcourt had ever seen was long enough, he thought.

A warm pair of arms wrapped around his waist and a wet kiss was placed on his bonding gland.

“Hey, honey,” Eddie cooed. “You ready to go?”

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s arms and sighed happily. “Yeah, love, I am.”

“You going to miss this?” he murmured, squeezing Steve tightly.

Steve hummed, thinking about it. “To some extent, but doing this well into my fifties and sixties was never in the cards for me.”

“No?”

He shook his head. “I was always too much of a romantic for that. When I first learned I was infertile it was a relief that I didn’t have to live to my parents’ high expectations for me. I had looked up to Roxie because they were living the life young me always wanted, freedom as an omega.”

“I’m glad you got that freedom, sweetheart,” Eddie said softly. “You really grew into your own. If you want to keep working for another couple of years, you’ve got it. I won’t stop you.”

Steve turned in his grasped and kissed him soundly. “No, Eds. This is what I want. I want a life with you. I want to bond and mate you. I want to carry your pups. As many as you want. Because if I was given the choice as a sixteen year old to have that freedom I always craved and the chance to marry and bare children? I would have taken it in a heartbeat. But when they thought I was infertile, the glamour of being an escort was the only choice for me.”

Eddie nuzzled Steve’s scent gland. “Okay, Stevie.” He nipped under Steve’s jaw. “Fuck, you are so hot when you get all passionate about shit. I could have you right here, right now on this floor if you’d let me.”

Steve slipped out of his embrace with a giggle. “As tempting as that would be, darling, the movers will be here in ten minutes and the cleaners in thirty. And I’m not as fast as I used to be.”

Eddie huffed impatiently.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Eddie and Steve shared a confused glance.

Steve walked to the door and opened it.

He stood there in shock for a moment. There on the side of the door frame was Roxie. Steve’s idol.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Come on in. You’ll pardon the mess, I’m moving out today.”

Roxie stepped in.

They were as beautiful in person as they had been on the poster on Steve’s wall as a teenager.

They were tall and thin, with long black hair and piercing blue eyes. No one was sure what race Roxie was because they had an exotic look no matter where they go.

Roxie was also the first non-binary omega escort the world had ever seen.

In short Steve was enamored.

Eddie gave his shoulder a squeeze. “I’m going to meet the movers.”

He kissed Steve’s cheek and slipped out of the door that Roxie had just walked through.

“He’s cute,” Roxie said with a smile.

Steve blushed. “I like him.”

Roxie threw back their head and laughed. “I would hope so considering you’re bonding next month.”

Steve cocked his head and grinned. “Yeah...”

Roxie held up their prizes, two champagne flutes and a bottle of champagne. “I’ve come to celebrate!”

Steve took the glasses and wandered over to the sofa. It hadn’t been moved yet, so they at least had a place to sit.

Roxie produced a bottle opener from the confines of their coat pocket and opened the champagne. Steve held out the two glasses and Roxie poured the bubbling liquid.

“Come, come,” they said. “Sit. Tell me all about the hottie that just left.”

So Steve did.

“I’m happy for you,” Roxie said. “It took me years to find my soulmate.”

Steve blinked. “Are you–no...really?”

“A golden omega? Oh yes. Really,” Roxie said with a laugh. “I just didn’t meet my bondmate until I was much older, and we never wanted children so we bonded and just never share my heats.”

“Doesn’t that get lonely?” Steve asked. “Spending your heats without your bondmate?”

Roxie shook their head. “No. We still share his ruts and we use as much protection as we can. But, no. I’ve gotten used to having my heats alone, adding another person would just be complicating things at this point.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Steve said with a nod. “I guess I’m young enough to miss the connection that he and I share during his ruts when I have my heats.”

Roxie smiled. “I hear you had to jump through a few hoops to bond.”

Steve sighed heavily and took a long drink, nearly draining the glass. “It was a mess. I would be the first official golden omega to retire from active escorting and that was something they wanted to carefully curate. They didn’t want a scandal like what the church had last year when Chrissy broke open the illegal nature of the amount of omegas they took in.”

“That was a nightmare,” Roxie agreed. “I was shocked by it all.”

“I’m just grateful that I’ll have a few months to prepare for the fallout before the shit hits the fan,” Steve said. “After all it won’t come out until Eddie and I get pregnant.”

Roxie hummed their agreement.

“If you’re really lucky,” they said, “maybe a year or more.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “That’s what Eddie’s hoping for, but I’m fine with either, honestly. My two biggest dreams growing up were having pups and being an escort, how that would have worked out biologically, I had no idea, I was just dumb kid. But actually getting both feels like a miracle.”

Roxie smiled, their eyes crinkling. “I’m almost sad you’re a golden omega, because I really thought you would be the one to take my place as top earner when I retired next year.”

His jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. “Wait, really?” He couldn’t believe it. Roxie retire? That was unfathomable. Oh and the other thing, too.

Roxie must of read his mind because they laughed. “Yes, I’m retiring. I turn sixty-five next year, and I really can’t see myself doing it for much longer. And as for you, yes, darling. You. You are the best escort this industry has ever seen and you have the receipts to prove it.”

“They do want me to come back and teach the next batch of incoming escorts,” Steve said with a sigh smile. “From the ages of sixteen to eighteen, I’ll be teaching them everything I learned to make them better. And that’s more important than any glamour or glitz being an escort could possibly give me.”

“Then the agency is in better hands than I thought!” Roxie cried, gleefully clapping their hands together.

Steve smiled and shook his head. “You know, it’s funny. The only reason my dad even allowed me to be an escort was because there had never been a Harrington omega who wasn’t a trophy wife. They never worked a day in their lives. So when I offered to become a wet nurse to save up money to become a teacher, he blanched and said that I was going to be an escort. At least I could make money for them that way.”

He poured himself another glass and filled Roxie’s when they put out their own too.

“Well,” Roxie said smiling over their glass, “as long as you don’t start work until after you’ve bonded Eddie, that could still be true about the whole ‘no Harrington ever being a teacher’ thing.”

Steve laughed, his eyes squeezed tight, mouth open wide and just laughing with his whole chest. “Here’s to that!”

They clinked their glasses together. They talked for a little while longer, but soon Roxie had left and the movers and the cleaners filed in.

“These knothead movers,” Eddie said darkly, “were trying to duck out of doing the job because you were celebrating still.”

The older of the alpha moving team glared at him. “How was I to know that Roxie was in there?”

“From believing me when I told you?” Eddie asked, waving his arms out in front of him.

“He is so gorgeous,” one of the omega cleaners twittered.

“They,” Steve said with a frown. “Roxie uses they/them. Unless you're talking about someone else.”

The cleaner rolled her eyes. “He was a him for decades and then decides to come out non-binary? Whatever.”

“Out!” Steve said, barely containing his rage. “I will put in complaints with your bosses and management will get in new teams if they know what’s good for them.”

Eddie grinned. “You’ve got it, babe.”

Everyone filed out, the other omega cleaners hissing and snarling their dismissal at the other girl. The movers got what they wanted so they didn’t care.

As the lead mover was passing by Steve, he muttered, “Slut.”

The alpha was on the ground trapped in an arm bar, Eddie’s knee in the middle of his back.

The alpha cried out in surprise and pain. “What the fuck?!”

“That’s my omega you just insulted,” Eddie snarled, his alpha fangs extending. “And I don’t take kindly to that sort of thing. I will make sure that your company never gets a single celebrity client ever again. Steve will make sure Starcourt never uses you again, nor any other escort agency.” He yanked on the man’s arm causing him to gasp in pain. “Now I’m going to let you up, nice and slow and then you are going to apologize to Steve. Understand?”

The man nodded and Eddie got up. After a moment the alpha mover got to his feet.

“I’m waiting,” Steve huffed. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was leaning on his back leg.

“I’m sorry I called you a slut,” the man groused, rubbing the arm Eddie had yanked.

“Just because my work is different from yours doesn’t mean it’s not work,” Steve hissed. He waved his hand. “Now get out of my sight.”

The man followed his team out and Eddie slammed the door behind them.

“I’ve already contacted Powell,” Steve said. “They’ve already blacklisted both companies and have new crews being sent over.”

“Do we need to be here when they come?” Eddie asked.

Steve shook his head. “I was just cutting it fine getting the last of my stuff being packed away.”

Eddie grinned and pulled Steve in for a kiss. “Then why don’t you and I get out of here and celebrate a little bit on our own?”

“That sounds good,” Steve said, throwing his arms around Eddie’s neck. “Because that little display of yours taking down that mover was super hot.”

Eddie drew Steve in closer so they were flush against each other. “Yeah?”

Steve bit his bottom lip and nodded.

“Did my pretty little omega get wet watching his alpha take down a disgusting pig?” Eddie teased, cupping Steve’s ass with both hands.

“So wet,” Steve breathed. “Almost as wet as our first meeting, rockstar.”

Eddie licked his lips slowly and then nodded.

“Your stuff is already at my place,” he growled. “So I’m going to take you back there and fuck you into the mattress. Sound good, baby?”

Steve kissed him deeply. “Sounds so good.”

****

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

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[moodymelanist]

Hey There, Summerboy

happy @cassianappreciationweek everyone! i'm so so excited to see what everyone creates for this week<3

does parasailing count as flying? of course it does. hope y'all enjoy this one and see you again for more cassian goodness later this week!!

Summary: When the Valkyries’ parasailing excursion doesn’t go as planned, the hot guy on the beach swoops in to help Nesta out.

Word Count: 2,165

Read on AO3 here!

✵✵✵✵✵ Nesta

Nesta sighed happily as she reclined in her lounge chair, shifting ever so slightly to make herself more comfortable. She’d been looking forward to this vacation for months now, and God did it feel good to relax by the pool without a care in the world. The sun was warming her perfectly, she looked great in her navy one-piece, and she’d deleted Outlook from her phone for the week.

She, Emerie, and Gwyn had planned a much-needed girls trip to Mexico, and so far everything had been going perfectly. They’d booked an all-inclusive resort in Cancun – a little further down the hotel strip to lower their chances of being bombarded by college students – and the food was good, the weather was perfect, and Nesta had never enjoyed her life more than this moment.

All she needed now was for Gwyn and Emerie to come join her, but they were taking their time enjoying the buffet. Nesta knew they were actually trying to decide whether a pretty blonde woman and her brooding friend were dating or just friends, so she told them to just catch up with her by the pool once they were finished.

Nesta let herself doze for a bit while she waited for them, and she returned to full awareness at the feeling of someone gently poking her shoulder. “Hmm?”

“Good afternoon, sleepyhead,” Gwyn said from above her with a wide grin. She pushed her sunglasses up on top of her head, her hand even more freckled than usual thanks to all the time they’d been spending in the sun. “You ready for our excursion?”

“What are we doing again?” Nesta asked, sitting up once she’d adequately stretched her limbs out. Gwyn had gone a little crazy with booking fun things for them to do, and while normally Nesta would be trying to reel her in just a little, she’d been so exhausted and burnt out from work lately that she hadn’t had the heart to tell Gwyn no.

“Parsailing,” Emerie answered. She messed with the straps of her black bathing suit before adding, “We just have to go down to the beach.”

“Yeah, okay,” Nesta replied, glad that she’d worn a more secure bathing suit today. “Let me pack up my stuff and we can go.”

Gwyn beamed. “Yay! I’ve been looking forward to this all vacation.”

“You’ve said that about all the activities,” Emerie responded, teasing just a little bit. 

“Yeah, because they’ve all been exciting,” Gwyn fired back without missing a beat. “Come on, Em! It’s Mexico.”

Nesta finished gathering her stuff, tuning out her friends joking with one another as she neatly repacked her beach bag and put on her beach slides. The three of them made their way down to the beach, sand warm under their feet and the smell of the ocean beckoning them closer as they found the people in charge of the parasailing.  

Emerie quickly stepped in to handle everything, her first language coming in handy just as it had for all the previous days of their trip. As she was talking with the employees, another group stepped into line behind them, but Nesta wasn’t paying too much attention. She was more focused on the way Emerie seemed to be getting more and more insistent, and Nesta didn’t need to understand Spanish to know that that wasn’t exactly the best sign.

Emerie turned to Nesta and Gwyn sheepishly after a few more minutes of conversation. “Uh… she’s saying the parasail only fits two people at once. Not three.”

“You’re kidding,” Gwyn replied, pouting. “I thought the guy at the hotel said we could do three people!”

“Apparently he was wrong,” Emerie said back with a heavy sigh. “So one of us is going to have to go alone, or not at all.” 

“I don’t mind not going,” Nesta responded before either of her friends could get a chance to. “I know how much you two like this kind of stuff.”

“Nesta, I don’t want to do that to you,” Gwyn protested immediately.

“We can find something else to do for all three of us,” Emerie chimed in at nearly the same time.

“No, seriously, it’s okay,” Nesta insisted. She loved her friends, but she also wasn’t exactly champing at the bit to be flying through the air alone. “I’m sure you already paid, so I can just go read by the pool. It’s really not that big of a deal.”

“Nesta, are you sure?” Gwyn asked. “Because we can just find a different activity to do. I have no problems going back inside and getting our money back.”

Before Nesta could firmly tell Gwyn that it was absolutely not a problem, someone chimed in from behind them. “Not to be totally creepy, but… maybe we can help each other out here?”

Nesta turned to see the group she hadn’t been paying attention to earlier was actually made up of the blonde woman and the brooding guy trailing along behind her that Emerie and Gwyn had been debating about earlier. What they hadn’t mentioned was the third member of their group, who had to have been one of the most attractive men Nesta had ever seen in her life. He was tall, with dark swirls of ink curling across his chest and upper arms, and his eyes were a pretty hazel color that made her want to step closer to figure out what color they really were.

“What?” Nesta said dumbly, her brain still catching up somewhat. Emerie snorted from somewhere behind her, but Nesta’s mind was too busy going !!! to fully process that.

“I’m too big to fit on a parasail with my friends anyway,” Hot Beach Guy continued. He motioned to himself with a bit of a self-deprecating grin, and Nesta had to make sure her mouth hadn’t dropped open at the sight of his thighs in his bright red swim trunks. “So if you need someone to go with, I’m your guy.”

“That’ll be perfect,” Gwyn cut in before Nesta could say something embarrassing. Not that she necessarily appreciated Gwyn making the decision for her, but at least it saved her countless sleepless nights replaying this interaction. “Nesta would love to.”

“Nesta, huh?” Hot Beach Guy said, grinning at Nesta. God, she wanted to lick her name right out of his mouth, but she needed to pull it the fuck together. Immediately. “I sure hope you can speak for yourself before we get strapped in together.”

“Of course I can speak for myself,” Nesta said back with a roll of her eyes. He was hot, but not so hot that she was rendered completely incapable of speech. “I don’t know if I want to be strapped in with a stranger.”

“I’m Cassian,” Cassian said, pointing to himself before moving onto his friends. “That’s Mor, and that’s Azriel. Stranger danger solved.”

“I wouldn’t mind a little stranger danger myself,” Emerie said under her breath. Gwyn giggled quietly, but the way Mor was staring Emerie down, Nesta didn’t think danger was going to be any sort of problem tonight. Maybe figuring out their sleeping arrangements, but they’d cross that bridge when they got to it.

“So, Nes,” Cassian continued with a waggle of his eyebrows. One of them had a scar cutting through it, and it was unfair just how much hotter it made him. “What do you say? Do you trust me?”

“You’re no Aladdin,” Nesta replied, cocking an eyebrow of her own, “but I guess you’ll do.”

Cassian laughed, and that was that. Emerie and Gwyn stayed together, as did Azriel and Mor, but somehow Nesta and Cassian ended up being the first to go on the parasail. Judging from Gwyn and Emerie’s knowing smiles, it was probably half so she wouldn’t back out at the last minute and half so they could enjoy watching Cassian shamelessly flirt with her the entire time.

Not that Nesta completely minded that last part.

Shameless flirting aside, Cassian was more than helpful in getting Nesta to the right part of the boat. Before she knew it, they were getting strapped in as the employees gave them all the standard warnings about keeping their limbs where they were supposed to. Nesta swallowed thickly, the reality of what she was doing sinking in a little bit as the employees finished doing their last rounds of safety checks. It was probably too late to back out, but it would also probably be fine. Right?

“It’ll be fine,” Cassian said suddenly, as if he’d plucked the though right out of her mind. Nesta whipped her head to the side to find him already looking at her; the way his gaze was too knowing made her want to look away, but she fought the urge to hide. His eyes were much greener up close than she’d thought. “I’ll protect you.”

“That’s reassuring,” Nesta said back with a roll of her eyes. 

“I’m pretty strong,” he replied, chuckling. “I think I could handle it.”

“Let’s hope we don’t have to find out,” she told him, surprised when he just laughed again. “What’s so funny?”

“You,” he answered without hesitation. “Something about a beautiful woman knocking me down a peg or two really gets me going.”

Nesta was saved from having to reply when the employees started counting down, and suddenly, the boat started speeding up. It felt like hardly any time at all before the parachute started filling up with air, and suddenly Nesta and Cassian’s feet were leaving the ground. Nesta released an undignified squeak that she would absolutely refuse having made if anyone asked her, her feet flailing a little bit as the ground disappeared from underneath them, and her hand shot out of its own accord to grab Cassian’s seemingly already waiting one.

“Let’s go!” Cassian yelled, clearly having the time of his life. He whooped loudly, the sound yanking Nesta out of her head just enough for her to refocus, and she blinked a few times before turning to look at him. “This is awesome!”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this!” Nesta yelled back over the sound of the wind. “What the hell! This is insane!”

“It’s just like flying,” Cassian answered, still speaking pretty loudly so they could hear each other. Nesta couldn’t help but think to herself that if this was what flying was like, she didn’t know if she wanted any parts of it ever again, but it was a fun thought.“Look how pretty the ocean is!”

She dared to look down beneath their dangling feet, her mouth falling open a little bit at how blue the water was. She hadn’t seen water this blue in a long time, other than from looking out of plane windows, but he was right – it was pretty, and even though her stomach felt a few seconds away from dropping out, she was glad that she’d gotten to see it.

“Told you so!” Cassian told her once Nesta had looked back up. He shifted his hand underneath hers so their fingers were lined up better, and it sent a little zing right up Nesta’s spine. His hands were larger than hers and much, much, warmer, and damn if it didn’t help settle something in her that she didn’t know she needed.

“Don’t get used to it!” Nesta shouted back, wishing she could’ve heard his answering laugh over the wind. 

Cassian spent the rest of the ride cheering and pointing things out for Nesta to look at, which she deeply appreciated despite half the time being a little too nervous to look away from their hands to see what he was talking about. He didn’t seem to be deterred at all; if anything, the only time he got a little deflated was when they felt a tug on the parasail as the rope started turning and bringing them back down to the boat.

Once they’d gotten unhooked from their safety harnesses and had moved back inside the boat, Cassian leaned against the nearest wall and looked down at Nesta with a playful grin. “So for our second date, do you want to do something on the ground, or…?”

“What made you think that was a first date?” Nesta asked, crossing her arms as she looked up at him.

“Holding my hand the entire time was a pretty clear sign, if you ask me,” he replied without missing a beat. 

“If that’s enough to make something a date for you, I’d hate to see what you do after a real one,” she retorted dryly, pulling a laugh from him. 

“I’d love to give you a hands-on demonstration,” he answered, still grinning. “Maybe tonight? Around 8?”

Nesta made a big show of sizing him up, from his wind-tousled curls all the way down to his surprisingly nice feet and back up again. She already knew what her answer was going to be, but she found that she thoroughly enjoyed making him squirm. “Don’t disappoint me.”

Lucky for Cassian, he didn’t.

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[whumpbby]

Thinking that because it seems that the Demonic Cultivation was mostly something that Jiang Cheng took care of - either as a way to unload his grief or as taking responsibility of his shixiong's mess - it's possible that the Jiang disciples were the ones that were the best versed in dealing with DC.

Now I am headcanoning that - because JC seems like a man that has shit in hand and runs a tight ship - there's a group within the Yunmeng Jiang trained and experienced specifically to deal with Demonic Cultivation specifically. Like their Spec Ops. They are prepared to come in fast and hot, deal with the issue asap and start the clean-up - armed with talismans made to deflect DC, tame the corpses and help send them on.

So, like, one day WWX hears that there's some Demonic Cultivator causing problems in the area he's hunting with the Lan juniors and goes to deal with it. It still pisses him off that his only lasting legacy is not about his genius or his heroics (or even his good looks), but it's this thing he invented out of horrific desperate need and that's now used to cause chaos and hurt people. So, he feels it's his duty to go there and talk some sense into the person in question.

Except, as soon as he arrives at the scene and ascertains that yeah, the issue is serious and maybe it's better for him to send the disciples back home and call in reinforcements (Lan Zhan), because he can take the DC down, but the clean-up will be immense - when suddenly a group of cultivators land in front of them with a swish of purple robes and gets to work.

The battle is almost sad. In no time at all the fierce corpses are tamed, the cultivator thrown down and bound with talismans, and the cultivators are dispersing across the area to set up burials for the corpses and arrays meant to send the ghosts onwards.

It's all precise and quick, sure steps and short commands. A well-oiled machine with soldier-discipline cleaning the area of resentment. So unlike the usual exuberance and free-style of the Jiang.

Wei Wuxian is kinda stumped. How are these people, and why are they getting in his way? He didn't even manage to get any fun! You, baby Lan disciple, explain!

"They're the Red Brigade", the disciple explains in a hushed voice. "Jiang-zonghzu's personal guard. They hunt Deminic Cultivators."

Red? Ah, their uniforms are adorned with a red ribbon on the shoulder. How sentimental of Jiang Cheng. His shidi really missed him! (or wanted him dead, there's also that option). But no time to contemplate that, because these guys are super efficient and if WWX wants to do any investigation of his own (translate: being his nosy self) he has to haul ass before they clean up everything!

So, he goes to the leader of the pack with an intention of comparing notes! The guy is respectful, but so cold! Eh, is he even a Jiang? So much like A-Cheng! Well, he knows how to deal with people like that - everyone will fold when bothered for long enough!

So, he keeps following the leader and talking bullshit, as his brain takes notes on everything he can see around. The talismans they use, the arrays, the spells - that's all pretty high level and super interesting. Huh, even their clothes are embroidered with talismans (a page out of the Lan book, maybe? Sneaky, Jiang Cheng, sneaky!) and their they use ghost flags...

But something is strange. He can see traces of his own work here and there - and he's used to seeing is tools ironically used across the cultivation world, but these are... kind of not? There are traces of his work, but the sigils are not his, the flags are not his, the talismans are not his. Like someone engineered his work backwards and created something that was similar, but entirely different.

As if someone wanted or needed tools to deal with Wei Wuxian's creations specifically, without the risk of being used against them in the heat of battle. One of the cultivators has a qinqin strapped across her back - the strings are made from metal, so it's not for musical cultivation (huh, so that's how Jiang Cheng came up with the idea of disrupting Su She's music in the Guanyin Temple, it wasn't coincidence.). They came in prepared to counter anything a Demonic Cultivator would throw at them.

Hell, he can admit that going through them on his own wouldn't be easy (because he was always helplessly optimistic about his own skills)...

Oh, Jiang Cheng did his homework.

"Wei-gongzi, can I help you with anything? Shouldn't you be taking the Lan juniors home?"

Uh-oh, he was getting on someone's nerves. Better retreat for now.

But he wasn't about to drop the matter.

The Jiang Sect had a SPECIAL OPS! how was he supposed to leave that be?

He was invested, he wanted to discuss! He needed to compare notes!